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BELGIAN DAYS. 



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Belgian Days 


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BY 

KATE BYAM MARTIN. 

A 

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I pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba, and cry : 
“ ’Tis all barren.” And so it is; and so is all the world to him who 
will not cultivate the fruits it offers.— Sterne, 


CniCAGO 

JANSEN, McCLURG 

1882 . 



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I 


COPYRIGHT, 

Jansen, McCurg, & Company, 

A. D. 1^82. 


STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED 
BY 

THE CHICAGO LEGAL NEWS CO. 




CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. An Invasion of the Low Countries . 7 

II. Belgian Youth .... 16 

III. A Family Dinner .... 30 

IY. A School for Scandal ... 42 

V . A Young Adonis . . . .60 

VI. A Belgian Country House . . 74 

VII. Lex Loci 86 

VIII. A Village Fete .... 109 

IX. Much Ado About Nothing . . . 128 

X. The Vagaries of a Bat . . . 152 

XI. Not Learning, but Wisdom . .176 

XII. Bent, but Not Broken . . . 192 

XIII. Deus Ex Machina .... 203 

XIV. A Retreat, with the Honors of War 222 
























































































































































































































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BELGIAN DAYS. 


CHAPTER I. 

AN INVASION OF THE LOW COUNTRIES. 

In the heart of Belgium, situated on the Meuse 
river, and near the large city of Liege, was the 
small town of Huy. The river divided it into two 
parts, and its ensemble presented the general as- 
pect of a modern foreign town. On the one hand, 
crooked, narrow, ill- paved streets ran between 
many-windowed houses, with sloping roofs and 
fronts ornamented with a red-robed Saint Joseph, 
or a blue and gold image of Saint Michael, by way 
of sign; on the other hand, handsome modern 
dwelling-houses, with small, bright flower-gardens 
and gay awnings, lined broad asphalt-paved boule- 
vards. The denizens of the new quarter of the 
town were mostly retired manufacturers, who had 
chosen Huy, long famed for its epicurean delights, 
as a suitable place in which to spend their fortunes, 
( 7 ) 


8 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


while the old town proper, where every third house 
was a cafe, was left to the butchers, bakers, and 
candlestick-makers, who catered to their richer 
neighbors. 

The station-master stood on the platform, await- 
ing the afternoon express from Paris, while a few 
porters in gray blouses hurried up to the scene of 
action, on the look-out for a job. 

The express thundered into the station, and 
stopped. The window was lowered in a first class 
compartment, and a lady’s small, neatly gloved 
hand appeared over the side, making an ineffectual 
attempt to open the door from the outside. 

This manoeuvre caught the guard’s eye; he sprang 
forward and swung the door wide open. 

u Is this Iluy?” asked the lady, in French, with 
a decidedly foreign accent. 

“Yes, be quick, madame,” answered the guard, 
hurrying off after the manner of railway officials 
when addressed by ladies traveling alone. 

Once safely landed on the platform, Miss Belle 
Adams, for such was the traveler’s name, raised her 
veil and looked up and down for her trunk; there 
it stood, a leather-colored mountain surrounded by 
low, black hills; that was a comfort at all events, 
and giving a little sigh of relief, she gathered up her 
small bundles and walked forward in search of a 
porter. One or two heavy-faced Belgians gave a 


AN INVASION OF THE LOW COUNTRIES. 9 


glance at her bright young face, flushed with the 
excitement of arriving at a strange place, and then 
passed on to seek shelter from the driving rain. 

The station-master rang his bell, much resemb- 
ling an old-fashioned brass dinner-bell, and the 
train started off again. Belle looked after it with 
wistful eyes; it seemed like the severing of the last 
link that bound her to home and friends. 

A few carriages had been waiting to take home 
their respective owners, and one remained. The 
big coachman standing by his horses, the reins 
gathered in his hand, accosted Belle coming out 
of the station with the question, “ Are you the 
dame aroglaise expected at Madame Masson’s ?” 

“ Yes,” answered Belle. 

“ Get- in, then,” returned the man with scant 
ceremony, and clambering upon the box he left 
Belle to help herself as best she could. She strug- 
gled with the carriage-door, but could not succeed in 
opening it, when a porter, standing near, perceived 
her embarrassment and came to her fescue, for 
which he was substantially rewarded, and a mo- 
ment later our young lady was rattling over the 
small paving stones toward the Masson mansion. 

Alone once more, Belle allowed her hands to fall 
dejectedly into her lap, the flush died out of her 
cheeks, her 4 lips trembled, and the tears threatened 
to dim her eyes. Two large drops did finally fall 


10 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


upon her gloved hands; this seemed to arouse her 
from the reverie into which she had fallen; she gave 
herself a little mental shake, saying in a low voice: 
“ How foolish I am; but I am tired and hungry.” 
True child of the Nineteenth Century, she immedi- 
ately connected, though in tears, the mental with 
the physical cause. 

“ I am very foolish to allow a servant’s want of 
politeness to annoy me,” she continued. “ I have 
often boasted of my imperturbability to little things; 
now is the time to prove it.” 

Not to be disturbed by small things is good phi- 
losophy, but that circumstances alter cases is also a 
sound precept. Had Belle just arrived in New 
York or Philadelphia, on a visit to one of her nu- 
merous dear friends, she would not have been much 
discomposed by the gruffness of a coachman, but 
the incivility of this foreign Jehu brought many 
things to her mind; it was, in fact, the first tangi- 
ble reminder of the difficulties to be met with, and 
if possible, overcome, in the new phase of life on 
which she was entering. It reminded her that she 
was about to occupy, for a time at least, a depend- 
ent’s position; that the loving protection of friends 
that had always surrounded her was withdrawn, or 
rather that she had withdrawn herself- from it; but 
above all, that she was alone.' She lived over again 
the incidents of the last few eventful weeks; again 


AN INVASION OF TIIE LOW COUNTRIES . 11 


she was experiencing the delights of a holiday trip 
to Paris with kind friends; then came the letter 
from her brother Ralph, telling of change of for- 
tune; her sudden resolve, with the opportunity of 
its almost immediate fulfillment; the leave-takings 
of the early morning, and finally the lonely arrival 
at her destination. 

In the meantime the Masson carriage had crossed 
the stone bridge that spans the Meuse at Huy, had 
bowled smoothly down the promenade bordered by 
wide-spreading horse-chestnuts, coming to a halt 
before a large iron gate, which a portress hurried 
to open. The vehicle swept up the well-graveled 
path to a large stone house, long rather than high, 
with red silk window blinds, side balconies, and a 
stone front portico. 

A trim bonus, in a black dress, white cap and 
apron, opened the door. 

“ Oh ! it was the English Mees; would mademoi- 
selle walk in ? ” 

While bustling down the steps to relieve her of 
her wraps, the maid scanned the new-comer cu- 
riously, and, contrary to her usual custom, was 
rather at a loss to make up her mind concerning 
her. 

Ho rusty bonnet or draggled waterproof cloak 
met her eye; the lady’s dress, though simple, was 
quite as stylish' as Madame’s own. She glanced at 


12 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


Belle’s traveling-bag, noted her handsome umbrella, 
and the quick-witted Abigail came to the conclu- 
sion that this was no ordinary person. 

“ Madame said that I was to show Mees to her 
room. Will she have the goodness to follow me? 
We have a dinner-party to-night, and Madame is 
dressing. Madame receives a great deal of com- 
pany.” 

So, chatting, the girl led the way up an uncarpet- 
ed stair-case of polished oak, across a wide hall, 
where a window stood open, though it was No- 
vember, stopping before a bed-room door, which she 
flung open with something of a flourish. 

“ Here we are,” she continued, with a loquacity 
that was half conciliatory, half familiar; “ is it not 
a pretty room? And this is Mademoiselle Louise’s 
next to it, so you can the better have her under 
your surveillance . Are they not handsome sleeping- 
rooms, Mees?” 

It did occur to Belle to wonder what harm could 
befall Mademoiselle Louise in her blue- draped 
sleeping apartment to render constant watchfulness 
necessary. Belle dismissed the talkative maid, civ- 
illy refusing her profuse offers of assistance, shut 
the door opening into her charge’s room, and sat 
down to rest a moment, for her head was swim- 
ming with the fatigue of her journey. 

She was about to divest herself of her hat and cloak, 


AN INVASION OF THE LOW COUNTRIES. 13 


when the rustle of voluminous skirts was heard just 
outside the door, a heavy step approached, then 
came a decided rap, the handle turned, and Madame 
Masson-Spierley entered the room, accompanied by 
her daughter, Louise. Madame was a tall, stout 
woman, with coarse, irregular features, black hair 
streaked with gray, and small, suspicious gray eyes. 
She was handsomely dressed in silk and lace; dia- 
monds glittered in her ears and on her fat fingers. 

Evidently Mademoiselle Louise was not to ap- 
pear at the dinner party, for she wore a simple 
house dress. 

“ So you are Mees Adams? ” began the lady of 
the house; “I am very glad to see you.” 

Belle bowed her acknowledgments, but did not 
have time to do more, for Madame immediately 
resumed: “It is fortunate you came from Paris by 
the early train, for we are to have a large dinner- 
party this evening. I expect several young gentle- 
men, and I should have been embarrassed to know 
what to do with my big Loulou here, had you not 
arrived.” 

Madame smiled, as though she intended to be 
gracious; Belle with difficulty repressed a stare at 
the sight of such calm, unfamiliar egotism. 

“ One has to be so careful of a jeune fille” con- 
tinued Madame, looking unutterable things at 
Belle; “is it not so, ma grosseV 9 she continued, 


14 


BELGIAN DAYS . 


turning to her daughter, who certainly deserved 
that appellation. 

Louise was a stout, overgrown, heavy-featured 
girl, with a wonderfully fine complexion and abund- 
ant black hair. She stared at the stranger and com- 
menced to giggle. Belle’s heart sank; recovering 
herself, though with an effort, she answered Mad- 
ame’s smile and put out her hand .to Louise, with 
the winning grace that was natural to her, saying 
she trusted they soon would be good friends. 

Carriage wheels were heard grating on the walk 
below ; Madame Masson said as she turned to leave 
the room: “You will have your supper here with 
Louise, Mees ; you are perhaps hungry; would you 
like some tea? ” 

Louise chimed in with — 

“Mamma, you promised that I should have 
some oysters, some vol-au-vent and des glaces ; 
and they will not be ready so early. I cannot take 
my supper yet.” 

Evidently Mademoiselle knew her own mind 
when it was a question of eating. 

Belle was about to say that she could very well 
wait, when Madame saved her the trouble by 
remarking, “Well, I dare say Mees will not mind 
waiting until half-past seven. It is already six 
o’clock.” Madame then departed to receive her 
friends. 


AN INVASION OF THE LOW COUNTRIES. 15 


Now that Louise’s mind was at rest on the sub- 
ject of her supper, she devoted her energies to 
making an agreeable impression on her new gov- 
erness. 

Not being troubled by shyness, Louise was soon 
extremely voluble. Belle heard the menu of the 
dinner going on down stairs, with the names of the 
guests. She was also favored with a sight of her 
pupil’s jewels, — the coral necklace her Aunt Louise 
had given her, and her new watch and chain. 

Feeling unequal to much conversation, Belle took 
some books from her satchel, hoping the pictures 
would amuse the child; but Louise possessed the 
true Belgian restlessness — nothing but the sound 
of her own voice, or violent exercise, satisfied her 
for long at a time. 


CHAPTER II. 

BELGIAN YOUTH . 

“Mees! Mees! are you awake?” called a loud 
voice at Belle’s bedside, on the morning that fol- 
lowed her arrival in Huy; and there, somewhat to 
the young governess’ dismay, stood Mademoiselle 
Louise Masson, still in undress. 

Belle hastily arose, drove the young invader back 
into her own quarters, and commenced her toilette. 
Louise, having no liking for soap and water, had 
left her own room long before Belle was ready. 

On descending to the dining-room, Belle found 
her pupil already seated at the breakfast table, and 
doing full justice to the viands before her. It ap- 
peared a singular morning repast to an American, 
accustomed as she was to a substantial breakfast; 
it consisted of coffee, pots of preserves, bread and 
butter, and several different kinds of cheese; the 
choice was limited to bread and butter and jam, or 
bread and butter and cheese. 

Louise had made her selection, and held a long 
French roll filled with quince jelly in her strong 
( 16 ) 


BELGIAN YOUTH. 


IV 


white hands. The young lady, dressed in a wrap- 
per, minus collar or cuffs, sat forward on her chair, 
her elbows on the table, in anything but a graceful 
attitude. 

As soon as Belle was seated at table, Louise 
opened upon her a running fire of conversation, 
jumping from subject to subject .with a rapidity 
that was slightly bewildering to a stranger. 

The pair had nearly finished their meal, when a 
short, stout man, with a very red face, entered the 
room; he had a generally puffy appearance, in the 
style of the fabled frog who wished to emulate the 
ox in size. He had round, expressionless blue 
eyes, very wide open ; a pompous manner, and, like 
most short men who wish to appear taller, he 
walked with a strut. 

“ Well, ma grosse” he said, laying his hand upon 
his daughter’s shoulder. Belle rose. 

“Pray be seated; you are the new governess, I 
presume.” He favored Belle with a long stare, and 
then pursed up his mouth as though he would 
whistle. Like Josephine, he could come to no im- 
mediate conclusion about this new-comer; she cer- 
tainly was not the sort of person he had expected 
to see. 

“A very distinguee looking girl,” was his men- 
tal comment, “ and pretty, too.” He continued the 
conversation in his most affable manner. 

2 


18 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“ I hope yon are rested from the fatigue of your 
journey, Mees.” 

“ Yes, quite, thank you; traveling does not tire 
me.” 

“ Ah ! I know you Americaines are very in- 
trepid; you go everywhere alone , all over the 
world. You see I know something about your 
compatriots, Mees.” 

The singular expression in Monsieur Masson’s 
saucer eyes, as he made the above observation, 
rather mystified the young girl, for it left her in 
doubt as to whether the speech were complimen- 
tary or the reverse. However, she judged it best 
to take the remark in good part, and replied to it, 
as people usually do in such cases, by a vague smile. 
Monsieur Masson smiled too, highly pleased with 
himself (his normal condition), and commenced to 
put on his gloves. 

“ I must be oflT,” he said, rather abruptly. “ I 
am going to Spa, to look at some horses — English 
horses,” he continued, with a confused idea that 
Belle must be especially interested in English 
horses, as she spoke English. “Do you know any- 
thing about horses, Mees ? ” 

“ Very little.” 

“ These will go at a high figure ; at eight thou- 
sand francs, at least. I shall buy them if I like 
the look of them. We have one span, but there is 


BELGIAN YOUTH . 


19 


no reason why we should not have two,” and he 
slapped his pockets in a significant way, as much 
as to say, “ Plenty of money there.” 

Again Belle favored Monsieur Masson with a 
vague smile, which that gentleman’s vanity in- 
duced him to interpret as implying admiration of 
himself and his belongings. He walked before a 
long cheval glass, and there rearranged his necktie, 
assumed a “ conquering hero ” air, and then strutted 
jauntily out of the room, after having inquired of 
Belle if he could do anything for her in Spa, which 
was certainly a cheap civility. 

“ Where are we to have lessons? ” inquired Belle 
of Louise; but before that young person could re- 
ply, the door , again opened, and Madame Masson 
replaced her lord on the scene. 

She sailed in, her portly form draped in a wide 
purple wrapper, not over clean, its ample folds 
spreading out on either side of her like two fans. 
This garment had been a handsome one when new, 
for it was of the finest cashmere, and trimmed 
heavily with black velvet; but the velvet was worn 
and dusty, while several grease spots appeared on 
the front. This negligence in Madame’s attire did 
her femme de chambre but small credit, but that 
young woman had a theory according to which her 
duties only commenced with the afternoon toilette. 

Madame’s feet were incased in large, list slippers, 


20 


BELGIAN DAYS . 


more easy than elegant; her head was covered by a 
bit of stringy looking black lace, to do duty as a 
cache-tout / jewels still glittered on her fingers, 
which carried, nevertheless, a certain amount of 
“ landed property ” beneath the nails. 

Louise threw herself upon her mother, embrac- 
ing her with much effusion. Belle rose to greet 
the lady of the house. Madame Masson flopped 
down into an arm-chair, drew a foot-stool towards 
herself with her foot, and requested a few words 
with Belle. Louise leaned against her mother’s 
chair, listening intently. 

Belle’s heart began to beat quickly, though she 
maintained an outwardly smiling composure. 

“I stipulated in my letter,” began Madame 
Masson, “ that I desired a well-bred person above 
all things; it is so necessary that whoever under- 
takes the education of a young girl of family should 
be perfectly well-bred.” 

Belle glanced at the overgrown, slatternly child, 
lolling over her mother’s chair, and could with dif- 
ficulty repress a smile. 

“Can you draw?” 

“ Yes, Madame.” 

“Can you teach the German language?” 

Again Belle answered in the affirmative. 

“I shall expect you occasionally to assist my son, 
Gustave, with his English and German lessons. 


BELGIAN YOUTH. 


21 


He attends the Liege Lyceum, but is, unfortunately, 
very backward in both those languages. I hope 
you are patient, Mees, and that you are a good 
walker ; exercise is so necessary for the young.” 
Belle replied that she was a good walker, and so she 
considered herself; but she little knew how impos- 
sible it was to satisfy Belgian young people on the 
subject of violent exercise. Join the mercurial 
spirits of the French to the robust health of the 
English, and you have la jeunesse beige. 

A few more directions and stipulations followed. 

Belle thought the moment had arrived when 
something should be conceded to her, so she ven- 
tured to ask: 

“And Sundays, Madame?” 

“What do you mean? Ah, you are a Protestant. 
I regret that there is no Protestant temple in Huy; 
but 1 suppose you will not object to accompany 
Louise to the Catholic Church?” 

“Certainly not, occasionally; but,” continued 
Belle, becoming desperate, “ I wish to have some 
time to myself, so perhaps I would better take it on 
Sunday.” 

“Why?” inquired Madame, more surprised than 
pleased; “you have no acquaintances here, and as 
to amusements, you will accompany me to the the- 
ater whenever Louise goes.” 

“ It is not for amusement that I desire some 


22 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


hours of liberty,” answered Belle; “I have my 
home-letters to write, and on Sunday morning I 
should like to read my Church Service.” 

Belle was determined not to give up this point, 
and the steady look in her gray eyes indicated as 
much. 

Madame Masson thought discretion the better 
part of valor in this case, and consented to allow 
her young governess two hours of liberty on every 
Sunday morning. 

Thankful to have saved this much from the gen- 
eral wreck, Belle’s heart grew lighter and the cloud 
passed from her eyes. Madame intimated that she 
considered the conversation at an end, by rising 
from her chair ; and Louise was told to fetch her 
lesson-books. 

“ I am glad,” observed Madame Masson, when 
the child had left the room, “ to see that you have 
religious principles.” 

Belle remaining silent, Madame continued : 

“ My husband is very liberal in his religious be- 
liefs; indeed, we are a Liberal family; but as a 
mother, Mees, I should have been unwilling to con- 
tide the education of my daughter to any person 
not possessing religious principles.” 

This speech pleased Belle, who had tbe blessing 
of holding an earnest and practical faith in that 
“ power, not ourselves, that makes for righteous- 


BELGIAN YOUTH. 


23 


ness.” Before she had been long in the Masson- 
Spierley family, she discovered that remarks of this 
kind amounted to very little : a certain regularity 
in the performance of her religious duties being 
part of the paraphernalia with which a young girl 
comme il faut was supposed to secure an eligible 
husband. 

As the result of a short but careful examination, 
Belle found that though her new pupil was not 
what is called in the States “ advanced for her age,” 
she enjoyed a more substantial advantage, in that 
she had been thoroughly grounded in what she 
knew; so, whatever other misfortune befell her gov- 
erness, she would not be required to raise an elegant 
superstructure on no foundation. 

Lessons over, Belle sallied forth, accompanied by 
Louise, to take her first walk on Belgian soil. 

When the family were assembled for dinner that 
evening, Madame Masson said, placing her plump 
hand on a young lad’s shoulder, “ This is my son 
Gustave, Mees.” 

Gustave Masson “favored his father,” as old- 
fashioned people say; he was short and thick set, 
with round, astonished blue eyes, and an inch of 
liffht hair standing* out all around his head — some- 
thing between a halo and bristles. He had also a 
habit of blushing continually, so his face and large 
ears were very often suffused with a scarlet glow, 


24 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


which made him appear very sheepish. Louise 
resembled her mother in form and feature; though 
still unformed, she was straight as a young poplar 
tree, strong of back and limb, and gave promise of 
becoming what is called a “fine woman,” a distinc- 
tion quite as much valued in Belgium as beauty of 
face. iNor was she otherwise destitute of good 
looks; no fault could be found with her hair, teeth 
or complexion. The expression of her features was 
not harmonious; the chin and mouth were heavy 
and good-tempered, while the eyes and eyebrows 
indicated slyness, with even a spice of malice. 

Whatever else was justly open to criticism in the 
Masson family, their table was not; and at every 
meal the conversation ran for the most part on 
topics dear to the gastronomer. During dinner 
this favorite subject was introduced by Louise, who 
was herself a very fair cook — a wonderfully good 
cook for a child. This peculiarity she inherited 
from her father, who could do any mortal thing 
with a saucepan. 

“ Mamma, this white sauce is a little thick, and 
I find that Babette has put a trifle too much celery 
in it.” 

“ You are right, ma grosse ,” replied her mother. 

“ Louise is never very far out when it is a ques- 
tion of her stomach,” responded her father, laugh- 


BELGIAN YOUTH. 


25 


Louise laughed good-naturedly, showing her 
strong white teeth. 

Madame Masson frowned. u At all events, she 
comes honestly by her culinary skill,” she said 
tartly. 

“ Nay; as to that, we both of us ply a good knife 
and fork.” 

Madame was about to retort, when Louise chimed 
in : “Maes and I went for a walk to the convent, 
mamma.” 

“Did you pay your respects to her Black Lady- 
ship?” demanded M. Masson, with renewed hilarity. 

“We had not time to go into the convent,” 
answered Louise. 

“The Black Virgin brings in a pretty penny to 
aer lazy keepers, and she will continue to do so as 
.ong as there are fools enough left in the world 
for priests to gull,” resumed the master of the 
house, regardless of the presence of children and 
servants. “ She brings us one piece of good for- 
tune, however — a grand fete every seven years, 
when this miraculous virgin is brought down on 
the shoulders of four priests and paraded through 
the town with great j>omp. The ladies sport fine 
toilettes from Brussels and Paris; we have balls, 
races and pigeon shooting-matches, and the priests 
are good enough to invest our three gala days with 
the dignity of a 4 religious festival.’ ” 


6 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


M. Masson closed liis speech with a violent 
tirade against priests, monks, nuns, the Church and 
the Pope — which resolved itself into wholesale and 
often scurrilous abuse of everything ecclesiastical. 
Madame Masson appeared calmly indifferent to 
her lord’s vehemence, and allowed him to talk him- 
self into a very angry frame of mind without the 
slightest interference from her. 

Belle listened in pained silence, glancing uneasily 
from time to time at her new pupils. She tried to 
imagine her uncle Gray, in whose house she had 
always lived, reviling missionary meetings and 
prayer meetings, the elders and the minister, 
before his eager, bright-eyed sons; what would 
not have been her aunt Sarah’s amazement and 
grief! she w T ould have thought “father” had gone 
mad. 

M. Masson- Spierley was a Liberal in politics, and 
chairman of several Liberal Associations, chosen 
partly on account of his wealth and social position, 
and partly because his easy-going ways made him 
popular with the men of his set. He considered 
he had fulfilled his duty to the cause when he had 
roundly abused the opposite party; his notion of 
defending his friends was abusing their enemies; 
he hoped also by this line of conduct to convince 
people that he was an enlightened man and weaned 
from superstitious vanities. 


BELGIAN YOUTH. 


27 


Before the cloth was removed, the family ad- 
journed to a small conservatory, or winter garden, 
as it is called in Belgium, where coffee and liqueurs 
were served, which brought the long dinner fairly 
to a close. 

Monsieur went off to smoke; Madame took a nap 
in her arm-chair, while Gustave and Louise found a 
vent for their superabundant spirits in a lively 
skirmish. Their loud and angry voices awaked 
Madame, who lost no time in sending them both 
off to bed. Gustave, though fifteen years of age, was 
still well under petticoat government; indeed, his 
mother was the only being in the world of whom 
he stood in awe. M. Masson was far too lazy to 
exercise any authority over his children. 

“ As you look tired, Mees, I suppose you wish 
to retire also ? ” It was Madame’s way to pre- 
tend that people wanted to do what she intended 
they should do. Belle bowed her aquiescence, and 
followed Louise up stairs. 

It was a work of time and patience to get Mad- 
emoiselle into her bed; her quarrel with Gustave, 
to say nothing of the heavy dinner she had eaten, 
had “ agitated ” her, as her mother would have 
said. 

After an hour’s exertion, Belle had the satisfac- 
tion of seeing Louise finally settled for the night in 
her little white bed with its dainty blue hangings: 


28 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


the night-lamp was lighted, for all foreign girls are 
ofraid of the dark, and the door left wide open be- 
tween the two rooms. 

Tired Belle sat down in her own room to enjoy 
a few pages of an interesting book before betaking 
herself to rest ; for reading was one of her favorite 
safeguards against sad thoughts. Hardly had she 
enjoyed a moment’s quiet when the sound of violent 
and ostentatious sobbing reached her dismayed ears. 

“Louise, are you ill?” inquired she, going to 
the door of her pupil’s room. 

No answer was vouchsafed, but the sobs redoub- 
led in violence. Louise, bent on making a scene, was 
beginning to show signs of becoming hysterical. 
Belle, who hated comedies in private life, sat down 
by her bedside overpowered by a sense of helpless 
vexation. 

“ Will you please bring me a glass of eau sucree ? ” 
gasped the interesting invalid. 

Belle did as she was requested, and, in spite of 
her annoyance, could hardly repress a smile, as 
Louise sat up in bed to partake of her calming 
draught. It certainly was a funny sight — this 
strong, healthy girl, with cheeks like roses and lips 
like coral, indulging in nervous attacks, and drink- 
ing eau sucree to calm them. 

Louise kept her governess by her side until she 
wtis overmastered by sleep. 


BELGIAN YOUTH. 


29 


“ I wonder,” thought Miss Adams, as she re- 
turned to her own room, “ if my new pupil often 
treats her friends to such scenes? I, for one, should 
soon weary of them.” 

Next morning, Louise’s round, smooth cheeks 
showed no trace of last night’s emotion. Belle, on 
the contrary, was paler than usual. 


CHAPTEE III. 

A FAMILY DINNER. 


The first weeks of Belle’s sojourn in Huy passed 
but slowly for her. Madame Masson began by 
watching her very closely, but finding her always 
the same — quiet, composed and well-bred — she 
ceased, little by little, to make stealthy pilgrimages 
to the school-room. 

Gustave w r as very rough, and the rudeness of his 
manners caused Belle much annoyance, accustomed 
as she had hitherto been to receiving a certain defer- 
ence from all men, and even from boys. 

“ Cousin Belle” was a great personage with her 
Aunt Gray’s sons, and they considered it rather a 
privilege to be asked to render her any small ser- 
vice, while she, in her turn, had always been care- 
ful not to tax their willingness too far. If her little 
knights manifested occasionally the rough heed- 
lessness of boyhood, Belle took it in good part, 
knowing the kind and chivalrous feeling that lay at 
the bottom of all that they did for her or for their 
mother. 


* 


( 30 ) 


A FAMILY DINNER. 


31 


Brought up in a family of boys, she understood 
them too well to take umbrage at every rough or 
thoughtless word; but what tried her so much in 
Gustave was that his impertinences seemed to spring 
from a settled contempt for women and girls. 
Belle found, indeed, in most cases, that Belgian 
lads, who are kept very strictly under petticoat 
government as long as it is possible so to keep 
them, and are watched and followed about by their 
mothers to an extent which an American girl would 
resent, first asserted their independence from that 
yoke by sneers leveled at the virtue of -women. 
On entering the university, where they outdo their 
German confreres in dogmatism, no easy matter, 
they commence upon a second phase, and become 
aggressive atheists. They keep' up this fierce dog- 
matism until they are called upon to face the reali- 
ties of life. As young men in Belgium do not 
complete their university career before their twenty- 
fourth year, the “ Sturm und Drang” period lasts 
longer than is comfortable for their friends. 

Belle’s first difficulty with Louise arose from that 
young lady’s over-sudden, gushing fondness for her. 
Reserved from habit and training, and also, in this 
case, from inclination, Belle responded with an ill 
"•race to Louise’s violent demonstrations of affeC- 

ft 

tion. 

“ Mees,” said Mine. Masson, entering the school- 


32 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


room one morning, “ Loulou says that you are very 
cold.” 

u I have never been thought wanting in feeling; 
though I think we Americans are less demonstrative 
than Europeans are, judging from what I have 
seen.” 

“Oh! we all know how stiff Englishwomen are.” 
Madame Masson could never be convinced that 
there was a distinction between English and Amer- 
ican women; they were all Anglaises to her. “I 
quite approve of the reserve of your manners,” she 
continued graciously; “we all know what the im- 
pressible feelings of very young girls are.” 

“ I cannot say that 1 do” returned Belle, rather 
bluntly. 

Madame flushed scarlet, and answered in a high, 
angry tone, as she left the room : “ Some people 
have hearts, Mees, while others have none.” 

Belle continued her daily walks with her pupil, 
and before long she became more or less an object 
of interest to the good inhabitants of Huy. M. 
Masson, as was his wont respecting anything that 
seemed to reflect credit on himself, was loud in his 
praises of the new governess — an Americaine , whom 
he had secured for his Loulou. She was so gentille , 
so distinguee, dressed so well; must be of good 
family at home. In fact, Belle was so often the 
theme of conversation at his club, that the men, 


A FAMILY' DINNER. 


33 


not unnaturally, became curious to see her. One 
young exquisite, to whom M. Masson had often 
spoken in highly-colored terms of poor Belle’s attrac- 
tions, announced his intention of starting a street 
flirtation with the gouvernante. 

“ I say,” broke in M. Masson, a preternaturally 
serious expression coming over his jolly face and 
into his saucer eyes, “ I say, none of that ! She 
goes out with my Loulou, you know.” He had no 
thought for the defenceless and modest girl, so- 
journing in his own house, and to whom he had 
attracted the rude attention of an unprincipled fop. 

Before Belle had been many weeks with the 
Massons, she assisted at a family dinner-party. 
This social gathering, given by Madame Masson 
to the members of her husband’s family and of her 
own, was not intended to figure on the debit and 
credit list of social entertainments, which Madame 
Masson kept very exactly. 

Belle’s handsome dinner-dress, a black silk, 
Paris-made, did duty on this occasion, her only 
ornament being a few natural flowers in her “ bon- 
nie brown hair.” As soon as she was dressed, she 
repaired to the drawing-room, so as to avoid mak- 
ing her entrance in the face of a large assembly of 
strangers; and, slipping into a corner, she re- 
mained out of sight. She heard on all sides of her 
greetings between near relatives: 

3 


34 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“ Bonjour, mon oncle; bonjour, ma tante } 
comment allezvous , ma cousine? On s'embrasse 
entre proches parents, rCest ce pas? ” etc. 

The guests had nearly all assembled, when the 
footman threw open the door with an additional 
flourish, and announced — 

“ Madame la baronne de Ileuze.” 

Belle looked up with interest on hearing this 
name; for the lady who bore it was a person of 
great importance in the Masson family, and her 
opinion was quoted on all occasions, “ Ma cousine , 
la baronne de Ileuze” being a favorite phrase in 
Madame Masson’s mouth. 

The new-comer entered very quietly, however, 
with no flourish of trumpets on her own account; 
her responses to the demonstrative welcome of her 
relatives were even spoken in so low a tone as to 
be inaudible to the rest of the company. 

In the few moments that e’apsed before dinner 
was announced, Belle had leisure to examine the 
Baroness, as she stood by Madame Masson’s side, 
in the centre of the long room. Madame de Henze 
was a really beautiful woman of about five-and- 
thirty. She had a smooth, white brow, deep blue 
eyes, by turns dreamy and searching, a wonderful 
complexion, an upright and dignified carriage, and, 
above all, the simplicity and composure of perfect 
good-breeding. 


A FAMILY DINNER. 


35 


A few moments after this last and most impor- 
tant arrival, the company paired off for dinner. 
Gustave offered Belle his escort, and acquitted him- 
self remarkably well as cavalier. Belle had never 
seen him appear to so great advantage. More than 
one admiring glance was directed towards the little 
Americaine , seated between Gustave and an old 
paterfamilias who occupied himself chiefly with his 
dinner. Two very dissimilar objects of interest 
engaged Belle’s attention: the play of feature and 
graceful manner of the Baroness de Henze, and the 
enormous quantity of food consumed by her stout 
neighbor. The number of courses surprised Belle, 
as did also the amount of wine drank. Atone time 
she counted fourteen wine-glasses ranged around 
her neighbor’s plate. The men servants went 
around the table repeating, “ Monsieur , Bordeaux, 
thirty-five; Madame, Burgundy, forty,” etc. Belle 
was quite at a loss to know what these, to her, ca- 
balistic numbers had to do with it, until Gustave 
informed her that they represented the years of the 
vintage. 

The company sat down to dinner at seven, and it 
was eleven before they arose. The long sitting had 
not damped Louise’s spirits, at all events; she was 
as lively as possible, and teased old pater familias 
into a game of romps, in which he showed wonder- 
ful agility, considering his size and his appetite. 


3G 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


A tall, grave gentleman, whom Belle had not 
noticed before, approached the corner in which she 
had again taken refuge, and entered into conversa- 
tion with her. It was Monsieur Paul Masson, a 
nephew of Monsieur Masson-Spierley, and a mem- 
ber of the “ Chambre” He was very desirous of in- 
formation respecting the United States, and his 
questions showed so much intelligence and interest 
that it was a pleasure to answer them. Belle being 
only too happy to talk about her beloved country 
to an appreciative listener, they were soon in the 
midst of an animated conversation, when the 
Baroness de Heuze joined them. 

“ Will you allow me to speak to you without an 
introduction, Mademoiselle ? ” asked the lady, in 
her pleasantly modulated voice. Belle bowed, her 
face flushing prettily, and a grateful smile lighting 
up her gray eyes. She had been surprised that 
Madame Masson had introduced her to no one, and 
it certainly was a compensation that the best bred 
lady in the company should, of her own accord, 
have sought her acquaintance. 

“ And so mon oncle could not leave even for a 
few hours to accompany you here, dear lady ? ” said 
Monsieur Paul ; “ you see what it is to have mar- 
ried a popular minister.” 

The Baroness de Heuze, his wife’s aunt, was the 
only person to whom Paul Masson ever made 
pretty speeches. 


A FAMILY DINNER. 


37 


“I am satisfied, Paul,” replied the Baroness, 
looking up at her nephew with an expression of 
sweet sincerity, that caused Belle’s heart to warm 
toward her at once. 

The Baroness de Heuze had gained the reputa- 
tion in general society of being a cold woman; but 
no one could watch her expression when her hand- 
some and distingue husband was the theme of 
discussion, and not lose faith in her frigidity. 

Our little group were engaged in a pleasant, 
friendly chat, when their voices were all but 
drowned by the noisy talk of three or four young 
fellows standing near. The young men in question 
were students from Liege University, who, having 
lately found out that there were u more things in 
heaven and earth than had been dreamt of in their 
philosophy,” were now ready to set everybody 
right on all disputed points. 

To Belle, the most novel feature of the conversa- 
tion, if such it could be called, was the excited 
manner in which it was carried on. The young 
Belgians shouted, they gesticulated wildly, their 
eyes glared, their ruddy faces were flushed to an 
alarming redness; they frequently gave each other 
the lie — “ that is not true; you do not know what 
you are saying,” etc. etc. In short, any one unac- 
customed to such scenes would have fancied himself 
among a group of turbulent schoolboys wrangling 


38 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


over a game of marbles, and that a bout of fisti- 
cuffs would end the quarrel; — nothing of the kind 
occurred, however. 

Belle, finding conversation impossible in such 
vicinity, turned her attention to the disputants, 
and gazed on them in calm astonishment; her un- 
feigned amazement amused Monsieur Paul not a 
little. “ Mademoiselle,” he began gravely, “ if you 
desire information on any subject whatsoever, you 
had better ask it of these gentlemen — they know 
everything.” 

Belle smiled. “What are you gentlemen dis- 
cussing so earnestly? ” asked Madame de Heuze, 
turning to the excited and noisy group, with as 
deferential a demeanor as she would have shown 
toward members of the Belgian Cabinet. “ Mad- 
ame,” resumed the chief speaker, “ here is Yan 
Luppen, who pretends there is such a thing as Ab- 
stract Bight, and we contend there is not.” “ That 
question is beyond us, Aunt de Heuze; I think we 
must let the young gentlemen decide it,” said 
Monsieur Paul, with a slight dash of sarcasm in his 
tone. The irony was, however, lost on those for 
whom it was intended. 

“ I fear those young people will do themselves 
no good by being so agitated just after eating,”' ob- 
served the Baroness, uneasily. “ I wonder if noth- 
ing can be done to divert their minds and calm 
them down a little? ” 


A FAMILY DINNER. 


39 


Madame de Heuze said this in much the same 
tone in which she would have suggested that little 
children should be played with, and their thoughts 
diverted from dangerous amusements, as matches, 
etc. The Baroness’ concern for the welfare of her 
noisy neighbors was quieted by Madame Masson’s 
appearance on the scene; she soon dispersed the 
knot of wranglers, sending one for cards, another 
for tables and counters, etc. 

“The card-tables are ready, Paul; Cousin de 
Heuze, will you not depart for once from your es- 
tablished rule, and take a hand?” said Madame 
Masson, as she bustled by. The Baroness smilingly 
shook her head, while Monsieur Paul sauntered off 
to take his place at a whist-table. 

The Baroness seated herself on an adjacent sofa, 
motioning Belle to place herself beside her. “.You 
think our young men much too noisy,” begau the 
Baroness; “but no one takes an grand serieux the 
disputes of young fellows of three or four and 
twenty; men are nothing but des gamins at that 
age.” 

Belle’s thoughts flew back to the time, not so long 
ago, when her friend Ilenry Win thro p was three 
and twenty; how unlike a gamin he was then! In- 
deed, he was more earnest and less boyish when he 
tirst left college than he now was at his present age 
of twenty- six. A shade of regretful remembrance 


40 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


crossed Belle’s face. Madame de Henze’s sympa- 
thetic tact made her immediately conscious of the 
slight change in her companion’s mood. 

“ It is a great trial for a young girl like you to be 
separated from home and friends,” she said, gently. 

“Yes, but it was my own choice,” answered 
Belle, simply, while a faint flush on her cheek, and 
her trembling lip disputed her courageous words. 
Madame de lleuze noted these gentle signals of 
distress, and admired the girl’s brave and composed 
bearing all the more for the evidence of repressed 
feeling which she unconsciously betrayed. Respect- 
ing Belle’s apparent desire not to talk about herself, 
the Baroness turned the conversation into another 
channel, and soon became deeply interested in the, 
to her, naive remarks of the little American. 

They returned to their first subject of conver- 
sation — namely, the childish dispute of which they 
had both been witnesses. Madame de Heuze was 
greatly pleased with Belle’s conversational powers, 
and encouraged her to talk unreservedly. Where 
this lady took a fancy, she was willing to give her 
best and most intimate thoughts — on general sub- 
jects. Belle was saying: 

“I thought it very good of you, Madame, to 
treat the young gentlemen with so much deference 
when they were behaving so childishly.” “ My 
dear young lady,” answered the Baroness, with a 


A FAMILY DINNER. 


41 


peculiar half-pitiful, half-sad smile, “in many ways 
the majority of men are little better than grown-up 
children : they are faibles , fortfaibles ; ” then, fear- 
ing she had perhaps made an unwise admission to a 
3 T oung girl (one which she would never think of 
making to any of her youthful compatriots, encour- 
aging them to hold in slight esteem what it was their 
interest to honor), she hastened to add: “Men are 
in a more exposed position than we are, and it is 
for this reason that I always blame the woman 
more than the man, in cases worthy of censure; for 
it is we who should hold them up; and who can 
escape from a designing woman ? ” 

Belle had never met any designing women, and 
knew nothing of the fascinating and dangerous 
class the Baroness had in her mind: so she answered 
only half of her new friend’s speech. “ If it is we 
who should hold them up, why then do they call us 
the weaker sex?” 

The Baroness shrugged her shoulders slightly, 
and answered: “We are physically and intellect- 
ually weaker, but morally stronger.” 

Here the conversation was interrupted by the 
arrival of Louise, with a message from her mother. 
Madame Masson’s suspicious eyes had several times 
wandered, with disapproval in their glances, toward 
the sofa where the Baroness sat with Belle; she 
finally called Louise to her, and bade the child ask 
her governess to see her up to bed. 


CHAPTER IV. 

A SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL. 

November and December passed slowly by. 
Christmas day came, cold and rainy. What sad 
days these festivals are to exiles! It does not seem 
“ fair,” as the children say, that these quondam 
joyous days should pass without anything especial- 
ly pleasant happening to us. 

Christmas morniiig, Louise accompanied her 
mother to church — Madame Masson having an- 
nounced, with a half smothered sigh, that attendance 
at church was obligatory; while Belle employed her 
hour of liberty in playing over the dear old Christ- 
mas carols familiar to her from her babyhood. 

All day long Belle struggled bravely, and with 
only partial success, against homesickness; and a 
few days later she had several tangible proofs that 
many a kind thought had flown over land and sea 
to greet her at this holy Christmas-tide. First, in 
point of time, came a box from Home. Both 
Madame Masson and Louise had a good share of 
curiosity, so they followed Belle into her room to 
( 42 ) 


A SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL. 


43 


be present at the unpacking. Belle would gladly 
have dispensed with her audience, as she untied 
with trembling lingers the bundles which the box 
contained, and took her treasures from their w r rap- 
pings. Long kid gloves, a Homan scarf, a set of 
fine mosaics, a bonbonniere , and several new books, 
met her delighted gaze. 

“How kind of dear Frances!” murmured Belle. 
Her eyes filled with tears as she slipped into her 
pocket a little note that fell from a book, not daring 
to read it for fear of breaking down utterly, and 
wishing with all her heart that Madame were less 
curious or better bred. 

That lady, in her turn, was not quite satisfied 
with the affair of the box; she could not under- 
stand why any one should send such rich gifts to a 
governess. 

“Mees says they are from a Madame Prentiss,” 
said Madame to her husband, in a dubious tone, 
when relating the affair to him. 

“ Well, perhaps they are, my friend,” answered 
Monsieur, easily. “Americans are queer people, 
that every one knows, and Mees seems to me to be 
a very honest woman.” 

“ She has letters from Home in a lady’s handwrit- 
ing, and once she received a postal card from there, 
only I could not read it, as it was written in En- 
glish,” continued Madame, more reassured by this 


44 


. BELGIAN DATS. 


proof positive that Belle had a lady friend in Rome, 
than by her husband’s good opinion of the young 
girl’s character. Poor Belle’s face would indeed 
have been a study, could she have overheard their 
remarks. 

Another Christmas gift came for Belle, in the 
shape of a package of home letters. Among them 
was a lengthy epistle from her Aunt Gray, from 
which the following is an extract: “ Mrs. Winthrop 
says that Henry has quite given up society, and 
that he is studying law very hard this winter. Fath- 
er is very much pleased; I think Henry’s not set- 
tling down to some business worried him, though 
lie seldom spoke of it, even to me. You know fath- 
er rarely interferes. I asked Henry, the other 
night, how he was getting on with his law studies, 
and he laughed, and said that our Queen Bee was 
setting us too brilliant an example to make the 
role of drone any longer tolerable. Do you re- 
member how often he used to call you ‘ Queenie ’ 
when you were a little girl ?” 

Mrs. Gray imparted this bit of pleasant news 
about an old friend to her niece in perfect good 
faith. The worthy lady was no match-maker, but 
held to the comfortable old-fashioned Hew England 
doctrine, that if a girl was destined to marry, the 
“right one” would make his appearance in due 
course of time, and that her friends had only to 
wait until he was forthcoming: an easy creed for 


A SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL. 


45 


mothers and chaperons to follow, and one that has 
succeeded in bringing about as many happy mar- 
riages as any device that man has sought out for 
furthering matrimony. 

Mrs. Gray’s information produced, however, a? 
much effect as she could have desired had she con- 
veyed it with “malice aforethought.” Belle read 
and re-read the passage, and dwelt upon her aunt’s 
words oftener than she would have been willing to 
acknowledge. 

Can anything quench the desire to be loved in 
the heart of a woman who is loving by nature? 
Not sorrow, nor anxiety, nor work, nor will; she 
can smother, but not destroy, that God-given in- 
stinct. Deep down in the heart it lies, — often so 
deep that she fancies it dead; it has become an al- 
most unconscious want; but, after lying long dor- 
mant, a word, a look, will call it back into life with 
a giant’s strength. 

One afternoon early in February, Louise rushed 
into her governess’ room and delivered herself of 
the following speech: “Mamma says, Mees, that 
we are not to go for a walk to-day, for she forgot 
to tell you that we are to have company this after- 
noon. Some ladies are coming to drink coffee. 
Madame Pieters’s two little daughters will come 
with her, and mamma wants me to amuse them; 
so we are to remain at home, and to dress immedi- 


40 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


ately. I have seen the cream tarts.” Louise made 
this speech in one breath, and then disappeared 
into her own room, to array herself for the exciting 
occasion. 

Belle, having often read accounts in German 
tales of the popular afternoon coffee-parties attend- 
ed by honest housewives, was curious to be present 
at one in Belgium, and welcomed this tame amuse- 
ment. 

The custom of giving afternoon coffee-parties 
was never very popular in Belgium except among 
the bourgeorsie , who dine at one, take coffee at 
five, and sup at eight o’clock. Madame Masson 
had all but given them up, especially of late 
years, as they were incompatible with a six o’clock 
dinner, and, above all, were not in vogue in the 
best society. Notwithstanding her forced absti- 
nence, they were still, as they had formerly been, 
dear to her heart, as affording favorable oppor- 
tunities for eating and gossiping — two pastimes 
which Madame Masson much affected. 

About twelve ladies were assembled in Madame’s 
pretty boudoir between four and five o’clock in the 
afternoon — all married women — the greater number 
of a certain age, and all more or less inclined to 
embonpoint. Madame Paul Masson’s sweet young 
face bloomed out like a blush-rose amidst a bed of 
staid and heavy-topped dahlias. Madame Paul 


A SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL. 


47 


Masson, wife of the member of the “ Chambre ,* 5 
whom Belle met at the family dinner, described in 
the preceding chapter, did not belong to the coffee- 
party set in Huy; but she attended this one because 
her husband’s aunt, Madame Masson, had made a 
point of her presence. 

The ladies were attired, for the most part, in 
shiny black silks, deep collars around their ample 
throats, fastened with widespread-out bows of 
bright colored ribbons, or large broaches. Each 
lady was provided with a work-basket, and Belle 
remarked that their sizable hands turned out very 
dainty needle-work. The first greetings over, and 
the ladies comfortably seated at the large round 
tible, with the coffee cups circulating in front of 
them, a coarse-featured woman, with a tower of 
false hair and an incipient mustache, began the 
conversation: 

“ There were more nice people at Koeven’s fun- 
eral than I expected to see.” 

“ The poor old man did not long survive his mis- 
fortunes,” replied Madame Paul, in a commisera- 
ting tone. 

“ I do not know that he is so much to be pitied ; 
he was culpably imprudent,” interrupted the first 
speaker. 

“Of course, I know nothing about a question of 
business,” resumed Madame Paul, timidly; “but I 


48 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


have heard my husband say that Monsieur Koeven 
gave up every sou he possessed to his creditors, 
and he could do no more, could lie?” 

“ What business had he to find himself in such 
a strait?” went on the large-featured lady; “ there 
was certainly no need for it; he came into a good 
property at his father’s death, and his wife brought 
him a handsome dot / what right has a man so 
favored by fortune to fail?” 

“ Now,” thought Belle, “ I shall hear how a 
business failure is regarded in Belgium.” So she 
listened eagerly. 

“ The family have always been extravagant,” said 
a sharp-faced matron with a reddish nose, in a 
high-pitched voice. 

“Well, to give her her due, Madame Koeven was 
not extravagant for herself,” returned the large- 
featured woman, in her deep, gruff voice; “though 
Koeven was a very self-indulgent man, there’s no 
gainsaying that. I warned him scores of times 
that he would bring his family to beggary. I know 
for a certainty that they had all their poultry from 
Brussels, for Koeven thought he could eat no 
chicken but a Brussels one; oysters three or four 
times a week direct from Ostend; salmon, game; 
in fact, no sum was too large to pay for a table 
delicacy; and the wine, too, the champagne and 


A SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL. 


49 


burgundy that were drunk in that house, was a 
scandal! ” 

Here the lady paused to take breath, and then 
resumed: 

“Not that good living is a sin; I like it myself, 
and my husband insists on keeping a good table; 
but there ’s reason in all things, and if people cannot 
afford cake they must put up with bread. Every 
one knows that Koeven was not a willfully dishonest 
man, only weak and self-indulgent; though, to be 
sure, that ’s as bad in its effects as downright dis- 
honesty, and perhaps worse, for a rogue can some- 
times help himself out *of a scrape, while a fool 
always falls back on his friends. Still he was gen- 
erous, poor Koeven ! If he liked to spend, he liked 
to share; if he was fond of good living, he was 
never happier than when others were enjoying it 
with him. There was never a pigeon-shooting or 
a fete of any kind in Huy to which he* did not 
largely contribute. It strikes me that our poor 
old Belgium is becoming more corrupt every day. 
When I was a girl it was an unheard-of thing for a 
man in a respectable position not to be able to pay 
his debts; but now-a-days — ” 

Here the speaker was interrupted by Madame 
Masson, who felt that her guest had held the floor 
long enough, and was not minded to be merely a 
listener at her own coffee-party. 

4 


50 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“ Well, I should like to know what is to become 
of Marguerite and Anne. I suppose their mother’s 
relations can do nothing for them? ” 

“ No, that they can not,” replied the sharp-nosed 
lady, stirring her coffee with a vicious gesture. 
“ They advanced money to Koeven, hoping to en- 
able him to pull through, and save the family the 
disgrace. As it is, they will have Madame Koeven 
and her daughters to support, and they are not rich. 
Marguerite and Anne will find no husbands; there 
will be no marrying for them now.” 

“Why not?” imprudently broke in Belle; then 
she blushed crimson at her own abruptness ; but 
the speaker’s manner so w r ent against the grain wi tli 
her that it all but forced the question from her 
lips. 

“Why not? ” repeated aj^ the matrons, almost 
simultaneously. “ Why, who would marry them 
without a dot , and their father disgraced by a fail- 
ure? ” 

“ Indeed,” replied Belle earnestly, “ if they were 
of good family and nice girls, the fact of their being 
poor would not stand in the way of their marriage 
in America.” 

“We know nothing of America, Mees,” re- 
j oined Madame Masson, and her tone implied that 
they congratulated themselves upon their ignorance; 
“but here in Belgium, a girl must give up all 


A SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL . 


51 


hope of marrying in her own position of life if she 
lias no dot. Of course, it is a misfortune, for all 
young girls wisli to be married; and when they feel 
that they cannot, through, no fault of their own, 
the character is apt to become embittered, if the 
consequences of such a false position are not more 
serious still,” continued the lady of the house, 
with a significant glance at the other matrons. 

Belle almost gasped for breath; that a girl could 
not marry if she lost her money, and was also in 
danger of losing her respectability, were proposi- 
tions so startling to the little New Englander, that 
she refrained with difficulty from protesting. 

Each lady had a word to say about the Koeven 
failure, for it was the latest excitement in Iluy and 
a nine days’ wonder. Belle was really interested in 
the fate of the poor young girls whose future was 
now under discussion, and whose prospects seemed 
so very dark to the Belgian ladies. Wishing, if pos- 
sible, to find a silver lining to the cloud that hung 
over the Keoven family, Belle inquired if the young 
ladies were well educated, and was answered with a 
decided affirmative. “ Anne, the younger, was 
really a clever girl.” “ Then why do they not try 
to support themselves; earn their own living by 
teaching?” asked Bell. This proposition seemed as 
preposterous to the assembled matrons as a mar- 
riage without a dot. “ Their mother would never 


52 


BELGIAN DAYS . 


hear of it; she was of a very good family,” an- 
swered the sharp-faced lady, who was a second 
cousin of Madame Koeven’s. 

Belle colored scarlet, and decided to let the 
Koevens’ countrywomen settle their future pros- 
pects for themselves. 

After an hour’s gossip, that seemed long to Belle, 
the ladies gathered in little groups about the room, 
having left the table in part dismantled of its load 
of fragrant coffee, delicate cakes and hot-house 
fruits: for Madame Masson gave even her coffee- 
parties on a grand scale. 

Madame Paul Masson seated herself beside Belle, 
and commenced a low-toned conversation; she had 
noticed Belle’s painful blush at the sharp-nosed 
lady’s speech, and she wished to say something 
conciliatory: “You must not think that we con- 
sider it a dishonor to a young girl to work for her 
living; but you see the Koevens are in a peculiar 
position. They have always been on intimate 
terms with the best families in Huy, who could not 
receive them in the same way if Marguerite and 
Anne were teachers.” 

“In that case, I should do without the best 
families,” said Belle, decidedly. 

Madame Paul opened her mild blue eyes to their 
widest extent. 

“ I am sure,” continued Belle, in her eagerness, 


A SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL. 


53 


not noting the extreme astonishment depicted on 
her companion’s countenance, “ I am sure, from 
what I have heard him say, that Monsieur Paul 
Masson does not approve of such narrow-minded 
prejudices.” 

“My husband rarely discusses such subjects 
with me,” confessed Madame Paul, with a faint 
sigh. “ I am sorry for the Koevens, for I was at 
school with them, and Marguerite is such a nice 
girl, so merry and light-hearted — poor little thing! ” 
and again Madame Paul heaved a gentle sigh. 

At this moment a lady came up to Madame 
Paul — a red-cheeked person, with round black eyes, 
a weak smile, and a heavy step. 

“My dear,” said the new comer, addressing 
Madame Paul, “ here is the bib-pattern you asked 
for. If I were you, I should embroider the centre 
instead of braiding it, for braid is apt to scratch a 
baby’s chin.” 

Madame Paul’s soft little face lightened up, and 
she was soon placidly absorbed in a bit of intricate 
needlework. 

Belle resolved to slip unobserved out of the room, 
and obtain, if possible, an hour’s quiet reading, 
while Louise was occupied with her friends. On 
her way to the door, she was accosted by the lady 
who had made the long speech on Monsieur Koev- 
en’s failure, and whom Belle had rightly judged as 
a sensible woman, if a trifle rough. 


5d 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“ You are an American, Madame Masson-Spierley 
tells me.” 

“ Yes, Madame, I am.” 

“ Your manner of looking at things in America 

o o 

is very different to ours, I see. You seemed quite 
shocked when I called a failure a disgrace. Now 
tell me, what do you consider it ? ” 

“ I think it is a misfortune; alid if the man is 
young and of good business habits, not such a great 
misfortune either.” 

“ Then a man does not lose his civil rights by a 
failure, chez vous /” inquired Madame Broeck, for 
such was the lady’s name. “ And I have heard 
that he could go into business again; is that true?” 

“We never refuse a rope to a drowning man in 
my country, Madame; nor does a man’s natural 
right to a voice in the government of his country 
depend on his worldly prosperity.” 

Madame Broeck’s heavy lips slowly widened into 
a broad smile, and in spite of herself, Belle w T as 
struck with the really kindly expression of the 
twinkling gray eyes which softened her harsh fea- 
tures. 

“ Men conduct their business entirely on a cash 
basis in Belgium; and thus they rarely fail, un- 
less they are incompetent, extravagant, or dis^ 
honest. Of course, in a crisis, like the present, the 
most reliable firms may go down ; but I am speak- 


A SCHOOL FOB SCANDAL . 


55 


ingot* our financial system in its normal condition. 
In America, where business is conducted on a 
credit basis — and a very bad basis it is too — failures 
must be common enough.” 

“ But it seems so manifestly unjust to punish 
misfortune as if it were crime, and not to give a 
man even the chance of getting up again.” 

“ Ah,” answered Madame Broeck, gravely, “ you 
are young, and would sacrifice society to the indi- 
vidual; I am old, and would sacrifice the individual 
to society because my children will form a part of 
society, and its moral tone will be theirs. But I 
forget that I am speaking to a young girl; you are 
thoughtful beyond your years. I have three daugh- 
ters at home, and I wish you would pay them a 
visit occasionally — there is nothing so improving 
to girls as the companionship of sensible young 
people.” Belle thanked Madame Broeck, and said 
that it would give her great pleasure to accept her 
kind invitation, if Madame Masson had no objection. 

The coffee party was the last festivity that took 
place in the Masson-Spierley mansion for a long 
while. About a week later, Monsieur Masson was 
summoned in hot haste to the bedside of his dying 
sister, a spinster, who left a handsome fortune to 
be divided among her nephews and nieces. 

Monsieur Masson made no long stay at the house 
of death. When he returned home his face was 


56 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


less ruddy than usual, and he looked a trifle older; 
but the change was physical rather than mental, 
lie shut himself up in his study to write notices 
to be sent to friends, and also sent off several 
telegrams: a custom concerning both deaths and 
births which is gaining ground in Belgium, 
among those who can afford it. Monsieur Masson’s 
grief was much assuaged by this occupation; like 
ail habitually idle men, he delighted in fussy work. 
In the evening he informed his family, not without 
a certain exultation, that he had sent off two hun- 
dred mourning cards, and that his hand was actu- 
ally stiff from writing. 

Monsieur Masson was not intended for a hard- 
hearted or unfeeling man, but a life of sensuality had 
blunted even natural affection. He had also an un- 
common share of petty vanity, and everything began, 
continued, and ended, in self; no topic of conversa- 
tion could be started that he did not yoke to his 
own car, and drive on with in triumph. 

On one occasion, and on one alone, Belle saw 
Monsieur Masson really touched by his sister’s 
death. He came into the school-room where she 
and Louise were sitting, started, and turned pale at 
the sight of something that lay on the table — a 
framed sampler of fine needlework, such as young 
ladies executed in America fifty years ago, when 
dainty needlework formed an important part of 
their accomplishments. 


A SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL. 


57 


Monsieur Masson bent over the sampler, for he 
recognized it as the work of his sister Louise, and 
large tears rolled down his cheeks. His thoughts 
traveled back to the time when his sister Louise 
was a light-hearted lass of fifteen, and he a boy 
again, and when that same sampler was one of the 
chief ornaments on the walls of his mother’s little 
sitting-room. lie raised his head, wiped lfis eyes 
and walked softly out of the room, forgetting to 
tell what errand had brought him. 

But a few tears, however genuine, could not wash 
away the crust that years of vanity and sensuality 
had formed, and Monsieur Masson was soon again 
his own pompous self. 

"Wliat affected him most in the letters and cards 
of condolence which he received, was not the trib- 
utes they contained to the virtues of his dead sister, 
but the proofs which their number and the rank of 
the senders furnished of his own important social 
position. 

“ The Count and Countess of Arles have sent us 
cards, my friend,” he said to his wife, ■ with great 
satisfaction, “ and the Countess has written a few 
words with her own hand. I should not wonder if 
we received at least two hundred letters of condol- 
ence.” 

He was so childishly eager to open all envelopes 
a ;d to count the cards himself, that it would have 


58 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


been difficult to say whether it was a case of a fu- 
neral or a wedding. 

On the fourth day after the death the funeral took 
place. The family came from far and near to attend 
it. Belle caught a glimpse of the Baroness do 
Henze’s sweet face, and of her husband, a tall, hand- 
some, stately man. 

There are three classes of funerals in Belgium — 
ranked according to price: a first-class burial ser- 
vice costs five hundred francs ; a second-class, three 
hundred; and a third-class, one hundred. Though 
Mademoiselle Louise Masson had been but an 
indifferent church-goer, especially of later years, 
the burial service read over her remains was of 
the costliest kind. 

After the service, a family dinner took place at 
the late residence of the deceased for those relatives 
and friends who came from out of town. Monsieur 
Masson presided as chief mourner. 

That evening Madame Masson retired early to 
her room with her maid and a bottle of fleurd'oran- 
ger , while Belle remained in the school-room 
with Louise and Gustave, where Monsieur Masson, 
not caring to smoke his pipe in solitude, soon joined 
them. 

lie opened the conversation with some remark 
concerning his mourning garments, considering 
this a subject in keeping with the occasion. “ I 


A SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL. 


59 


shall be obliged to wear mourning six months,” 
said he to Belle. “You see, in this country we 
mourn one year for a father or mother, six months 
deep mourning and six months half mourning; six 
months for a brother or a sister, and three months 
for grand-parents or parents-in-law. A man is ex- 
pected to mourn one whole year for his wife. I 
shall wear black clothes, white neck-tie and black 
cotton gloves. I hate cotton gloves ; they set my 
teeth on edge.” 

“ Why do you not wear black kid, then? ” asked 
Belle, who had some difficulty in repressing a smile 
at this odd conversation, and at the mixture of un- 
easiness and importance, the blending of discomfort 
and pomposity, in Monsieur Masson’s manner. 

“ I shall certainly not wear any gloves but cot- 
ton,” said he, with heroic determination. 

The poor man had a dim consciousness that he 
oua-ht to feel more real sorrow at his sister’s death 

r> 

than he did, and this made him especially punc- 
tilious in keeping up all the forms of mourning 
etiquette. 

“Where I am known, I can neither go to the 
theater or to a large dinner-party for the next three 
months,” said he; and no more he did — where he 
was known. During the season of mourning, he 
visited Brussels once or twice, but history does not 
say how he conducted himself there. 


CHAPTEE Y. 

A YOUNG ADONIS. 

It must be a very deep grief that the spring sun 
and budding leaves do not alleviate, while they 
whisper of better days to come. When we cast 
aside winter garments to don bright spring attire, 
when walks can be taken in the fresh warm sun- 
shine, the young heart must be burdened indeed 
that does not throb in joyous unison with re-awak- 
ening nature. 

The winter had not been a happy one to Belle; 
the uncongenial atmosphere in which she had lived 
had weighed upon her spirits, and at times a feel- 
ing of utter discouragement had taken possession 
of her. Her somewhat severe moral training stood 
her now in good stead. Mrs. Gray, a Hew 
England woman of the old stamp, had not 
brought her orphan niece up “ to give way” to every 
passing emotion; so the young girl kept her 
loneliness to herself, and did not “ carry her heart 
on her sleeve for daws to peck at.” In spite of Ijer 
isolation from her beloved home, the bright spring 
( 60 ) 


A YOUNG ADONIS. 


61 


weather awoke in her that craving for happiness 
that dies so hard out of a young heart; not the 
deep content and restful feeling that comes from 
faithfully accomplished duty; not the feeling that 
Arnold describes “as the sense of going right,” of 
“ hitting the mark,” with which we learn to be sat- 
isfied as life goes on; but a natural, youthful crav- 
ing, born of the spring-time and the flowers, for 
earthly joy. 

About this time one of Mrs. Gray’s letters con- 
tained the following unexpected announcement : 
“ I have a bit of good news for you. Henry Win- 
throp is going to Europe this summer. He leaves 
some time in June. His mother thinks he needs a 
trip after his winter’s work; we are anxious to have 
direct news of you, so every one is pleased. I am 
sure, my dear child, that you will be glad to see a 
home face.” 

Belle was not a little moved by this information ; 
she re-read the paragraph several times, a smile 
hovering about her lips, while her cheeks flushed 
with sudden joyous excitement. A few moments 
later, she went into the garden, fastened some early 
flowers in her belt, and walked up and down in the 
fading golden sunlight, softly singing to herself, 
until the dinner-bell recalled her to the house. 

A young man stood by the dining-room window, 
talking with Madame Masson. “Louise’s gov- 


62 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


erness, the American,” replied that lady, in answer 
to his inquiring glance, as Belle entered the room. 
Adolphe Spierley favored Belle with a prolonged 
stare, and answered liis Aunt Masson’s information 
with an “ Allons donc?” which implied both 
astonishment and admiration. Belle’s appearance 
at that moment certainly justified the admiration; 
her gray eyes shone with a happy light, while the 
evening breeze had tossed her fair brown hair into 
pretty impromptu curls; a few bright flowers re- 
lieved her gray dress, wdiose soft folds hung grace- 
fully about the slight girlish figure. 

“ How the presence of a young man has changed 
that girl, and she looks so demure!” was Madame 
Masson’s mental comment on Belle’s altered appear- 
ance. 

Adolphe Spierley, whose arrival was supposed to 
have had such an exhilarating effect upon Miss 
Adams, was a tall, fair, handsome man of about 
five-and- twenty, who was both “ beau gargon ” and 
“ bel homme .” Ilis beauty was more physical than 
intellectual, for the expression of his face was un- 
formed; there was no depth and very little intelli- 
gence in his dark blue eyes, and no signs of feeling 
about his well-shaped mouth. 

Master of a handsome fortune at twenty- one; 
sought after for his lavishness, by which his associ- 
ates profited; petted by the women of his family, 


A YOUNG ADONIS. 


63 


on account of his good looks and usually pleasant 
manners, life, so far, had been but a continual 
fete day to him, and at five-and-twenty this young 
Adonis had the passions of a man joined to the 
way ward ness, unreasonableness and self-will of an 
over-indulged child. Ilad his lot been cast in an 
enterprising country like America, he would prob- 
ably have fallen an early and an easy prey (for he 
was as credulous and as impulsive as a child) to 
unprincipled speculators; but in Belgium things 
are differently managed. Adolphe’s guardians, his 
two maternal uncles, looked after his fortune, and 
the young man had to content himself with spend- 
ing the income only; by which arrangement he 
retained his inexperience, and had, moreover, plenty 
of time to devote to amusement. 

lie was considered a most unexceptional^^, 
and many a mother would gladly have seen her 
daughter bind herself to “ love, honor and obey ” this 
young lord of creation, so eminently fit to take 
upon himself the responsibilities of a family! 

Purposing to make his aunt a visit, and hating to 
be bored, even for a short time, Adolphe Spierley 
cast an eye of favor upon Belle, thinking it would 
be good fun to get up a flirtation with so bright 
an-d pretty a girl. His gay good humor made him 
a welcome guest in a house not saddened but 
made very dull by a recent mourning. On the 


64 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


second day of his stay, he met Belle on the balcony, 
and begged her to go with him to the drawing- 
room to acccompany some songs on the piano. 
Belle, in her simplicity, consented, and the two 
young people were soon absorbed in the music, from 
which occupation the click of a door-handle aroused 
them. No one came in, so the musicians continued 
the interrupted song. A few moments later, 
Madame Masson entered the room ; her suspicious 
gray eyes gave a little snap as she seated herself, 
crochet work in hand, by the piano. Belle, much 
to Adolpe’s surprise, went on with the accompani- 
ment with perfect composure. Adolphe stopped 
short in the middle of a love song, which he was 
rendering with much spirit. 

“ Go on, Monsieur Spierley,” said Belle. “ I will 
commence at this bar. 7 ’ 

“I fear you are tired,” answered the young man, 
twirling his mustache in an embarrassed manner. 

“I think that will do very well, Mees,” broke 
in Madame Masson; “will you see where Louise 
is, and send her to me? It is not well to lose sight 
of her too long at a time.” Madame’s tone, even 
more than her words, made Belle feel vaguely un- 
comfortable; and she rose immediately from the 
piano, and left the room. , 

If Belle had not been so thoroughly simDle- 
minded, or had she been naturally observant, "she 


A YOUNG ADONIS. 


65 


would certainly have remarked that she and Mon- 
sieur Spierley became from that time forward the 
objects of constant watchfulness on Madame’s part. 
Adolphe was, however, not so slow to see; he was 
accustomed to being considered a dangerous char- 
acter where young girls were concerned. When 
Monsieur Masson, who was delighted with the 
young man’s society, strongly urged him to prolong 
his visit beyond what was first intended, Madame 
frowned darkly at her blundering spouse, and re- 
mained so pointedly silent that Adolphe, flushing 
angrily, announced his intention of leaving that 
very evening. 

The evening being fine, Belle and Louise went 
into the garden after dinner, where Adolphe joined 

them. He soon found a pretext for sending 
Louise, who ran with great alacrity on errands for 
her handsome cousin, back to the house ; and 

then, walking on a few steps, he turned and con- 
fronted Belle in the path. He was certainly not ill 
to look at, as he stood before our little American ; 
a belle might have envied him the clearness of his 
complexion, and the sunlight flecked his brown 
hair, for he was bareheaded, with strands of gold ; 
strong and supple of limb, nature had given him a 
graceful, stately bearing. ‘‘These three days have 
been very happy ones to me, Mees Adams,” he said 

5 


66 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


in a low, penetrating voice, bringing all the fire of 
his fine eyes to bear on Belle’s downcast face. 

“ I am glad to hear it,” answered Belle, simply, 
while her calm gaze rested for a moment on his 
ardent face. Adolphe was slightly perplexed; 
he was something of a tactician in love, through not 
having sufficient originality to change his system 
to suit the emergencies of every fresh case 

“ Will you not give me one of the rosebuds you 
carry, as a souvenir ?” he continued, advancing his 
hand to take the flower. 

The girl drew back a step or two. “ If you need 
a souvenir to help your memory, don’t you think 
the keepsake itself would be superfluous?” said 
she, raising her laughing gray eyes to his some- 
what discomfited face; and sweeping him a half- 
mocking courtesy, she turned and left him stand- 
ing on the shady path. Belle was entering the 
house, when she met Madame Masson, who, on 
seeing Louise enter alone, had left her arm-chair in 
hot haste. The quiet smile that Belle gave her in 
passing was re-assuring, so Madame returned to her 
arm-chair and her novel, and called her young gov- 
erness “ chere ” for the first time. 

Monsieur Spierley was confounded and seriously 
annoyed. Who was this little upstart governess, 
this little American, that she should dare make a 
jest of him— the Adonis, the beau of society, the 
admired of ladies ! 


A YOUNG ADONIS. 


67 


He took leave of Belle with great hauteur , to 
her amusement and his aunt’s satisfaction; but the 
little American’s sweet, innocent face and hon- 
est gray eyes haunted his imagination for many a 
day. 

That night the following conversation took place 
between Monsieur Masson and his wife : 

“ I am not sorry that Adolphe has gone,” said 
the lady; “ he is always ready to get up an in- 
trigue, and one scandal in the place where one lives 
is enough.” 

“ Well, my friend,” answered her husband, sooth- 
ingly, “ there’s no harm done this time.” 

u Ho thanks to him, though. If he marries Oda 
he ’ll be obliged to behave himself better than he 
does now, for young as she is, at little person has 
a will of her own ; she ’ll be no patient Griselda.” 

“ Once married, lie’ll ranger himself.” 

“ That/s not been my experience,” answered his . 
wife with some asperity. 

Monsieur Masson made a clumsy effortHit turning 
the conversation, and not succeeding, lapsed into 
silence. 

If there was no denying that Madame Masson 
was a suspicious and unarniable woman, it was also 
true that her early experiences had not been of a 
nature to make her lovable or confiding. Her mar- 
riage with her husband had been arranged by their 


0.3 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


parents, to keep two large fortunes in one family, 
and the inclinations of the young people had gone 
for very little in the transaction. During the first 
years of their married life, Monsieur Masson’s ir- 
regularities had given rise to violent scenes, until 
Madame finally made up her mind to accept the 
situation, and to comfort herself with the good 
things of this life — those that could be enjoyed 
without losing anything in public estimation; the 
pleasures of the table, cards, the opera boufie, were 
her compensations. A saving clause in Madame’s 
character was her energy; she possessed, as weak and 
violent people often do, great physical energy. Her 
activity was sometimes fussy, and she made great 
matters of trifles; but at all events she was not a lazy 
woman. She was an excellent housekeeper, looked 
“ well to the ways of her household,” and did not 
“ eat the bread of idleness.” It is a pity that the 
quotation cannot be further applied: “she openeth 
her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the 
law of kifidness.” 

A few days after Adolphe’s departure, Belle and 
Louise met Madame Paul Masson, taking, like 
themselves, an afternoon walk, and that kind little 
lady invited them to rest in her garden. Madame 
Paul Masson nee Hortense de Blois, was an orphan 
niece of the Baroness de Heuze, who had intro- 
duced her into society and had married her while 


A YOUNG ADONIS. 


69 


yet in her teens to Monsieur Paul Masson, a mem- 
ber of the Chamber of Representatives and a much 
respected banker of IIuv. Cheerful, innocent 
hearted and sweet tempered, Madame Paul could 
not fail to inspire a kindly feeling, and she was a 
general favorite; only one was apt to tire of her 
society if forced to be with her long at a time* 
She appeared to the best advantage in her hus- 
band’s presence, for she listened in smiling, ap- 
preciative silence to his sensible discourse, rarely 
offering an opinion of her own, but acquiescing, 
apparently understanding^, in the wise remarks of 
others. The Baroness de Heuze certainly encour- 
aged her niece in these prudent tactics, if she had 
not suggested them in the first instance. 

Monsieur Paul’s want of orthodoxy was the one 
cloud in his wife’s heaven, and she always evinced 
a slight nervousness when religion was the subject 
of discussion, glancing imploringly at her husband 
from time to time, as if to beseech his silence: for 
what was said , not what was thought , was the all- 
important matter to Madame Paul. Monsieur 
Paul, by nature the most out-spoken of men, re- 
frained, in his wife’s presence from expressing opin- 
ions calculated to trouble her timid conscience. 

Belle and Louise entered the garden with Mad- 
ame Paul, who led the way over an English lawn 
and through a beautiful flower-garden to a summer- 


70 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


house overlooking the low parapet wall, at the foot 
of which ran the river. 

It was a warm, hazy afternoon, the sort of weather 
that best suits the landscape of the Low Countries, 
half drowned as it usually is in moving mists. 
Heavy barges were toiling up or floating down the 
stream. Van Luppen and other Dutch and Belgian 
artists have made such scenes familiar all over the 
world — low green banks, a slow-moving river, 
pollards, the haze that seems part of the landscape, 
the bright shirts of the bargemen, and the red pet- 
ticoats of their female companions, contrasting so 
vividly with the predominating grays and deep 
greens of the landscape. 

Belle and her hostess seated themselves at one 
of the small tables in the summer house, and 
Louise was dispatched to the house to fetch her 
little cousin Adele and order cakes and wine. 
Belle told Madame Paul of Adolphe Spierley’s late 
visit in Huy. 

“ What did you think of him ? ” inquired Mad- 
ame Paul eagerly. 

“ I thought him handsome, gay and good-tem- 
pered; I think him also a bit of a flirt,” answered 
Belle, laughing. 

Ho smile showed itself on Madame Paul’s face; 
on the contrary, she answered very soberly: “ I 
have seen very little of him myself; my husband 


A YOUNG ADONIS. 


71 


dislikes him. Besides, he does not often come to 
Huy since that unfortunate affair two years ago.” 

“What affair?” asked Belie, innocently. 

“Why, my dear, it is not a thing to tell a young 
girl; hut as you are an American and travel alone, 
I suppose there is no harm in repeating it to you. 
Monsieur Spierley had an intrigue with a very 
pretty girl who worked in one of his uncle Masson’s 
factories; and the consequences were most serious. 
It was very unfortunate, for all Huy knew of it. 
I believe the Massons gave her parents a large sum 
of money r to hush the matter up.” 

“ What became of the poor girl ? ” inquired 
Belle. 

“ I do not know what became of her,” resumed 
Madame Paul, shaking her pretty blonde head dis- 
approvingly ; “ you see her parents were very re- 
spectable people, so they turned her out of doors 
when she brought this disgrace upon them.” 

“ But I see that Monsieur Spierley is still received 
at his uncle’s house.” 

Poor Madame Paul stared a moment at Belle in 
perplexed amazement, and then she answered sim- 
ply: “ He is a man, my dear.” 

Belle was silent, and fixed her eyes in dreamy 
sadness on the river flowing smoothly by. 

Madame Paul noticed the girl’s abstracted gaze, 
and interpreted it in her own fashion. 


72 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


" I am glad I told her; it is evident that Adolphe 
has made an impression.” 

Little Madame Paul could never have fathomed 
the social problems that were clouding the thought- 
ful brows of the young Puritan girl seated opposite 
to her ; but, disliking to see people silent and pre- 
occupied, she continued the conversation. 

“ Monsieur Adolphe is all but engaged to his 
cousin Oda ; the Masson-Spierleys are very anxious 
for the marriage, for Oda is an heiress ; she is only 
his second cousin.” 

“ Indeed,” answered Belle, listlessly, turning her 
gaze from the river, with a sigh. 

At this moment, Louise bounded up, followed by 
Adele, and a servant bearing a tray on which shone 
glasses and decanters; Monsieur Paul gravely bring- 
ing up the rear. 

Belle shook off her sad thoughts; Monsieur 
Paul’s conversation always interested her, for when 
he spoke on important subjects, more especially 
social problems, it was touched with almost boyish 
enthusiasm. He had a simple-hearted, sincere 
delight in social reforms, and went into the subject 
with a mixture of good sense and freshness of feel- 
ing delightful to witness. Thi3 combination Belle 
had not often found in her own country, where en- 
thusiasts are rarely practical, and sensible men are 
never enthusiasts. On this occasion Monsieur Paul 


A YOUNG ADONIS. 


73 


fixed his earnest gaze on Belle, exclaiming: “ What 
an inspiriting thing it must be to work for the pub- 
lic good in so noble a land as the United States, 
and on behalf of people so little hampered by prej- 
udices and hurtful traditions ! ” 

An uneasy consciousness of what she had heard 
concerning the necessity for Civil Service Reform 
caused Belle to blush as she answered faintly: 

“Yes, sir; indeed it should be.” 


CHAPTEE VI. 

A BELGIAN COUNTRY HOUSE. 

Spring glided into summer. The Masson-Spierley 
family went out of mourning, and the giving and 
accepting of festivities was once again the order of 
the day. The month of July was half over, and yet 
the family had not decided where to spend the re- 
mainder of the summer; they had discussed in 
turn the three fashionable resorts of the Belgian 
aristocracy, Ostend, Blankenberg, and Spa, and 
could decide in favor of neither one. 

On Gustave’s account they were obliged to remain 
in ITuy until August, as the Boyal Lyceum in Liege 
did not close until that month. Madame Masson 
was not willing to take Louise to a fashionable wa- 
tering-place until she should be old enough to go 
into society. The system of secluding young girls 
during what may be called their minority is much 
in vogue among fashionable women in Belgium. 
It is said that a royal lady introduced this cus- 
tom; but her imitators have exaggerated the prin- 
ciple, by a too general application of it. There 
( 74 ) 


A BELGIAN COUNTRY HOUSE. 


75 


was certainly no apparent reason for excluding 
Mademoiselle Louise Masson from the public gaze 
during the years of girlhood, whatever might be 
proper in the case of a future queen. 

One day Louise catne to her governess full of 
news. “ I know where we are to go this summer; 
it is decided. My Aunt de Ileuze has invited us 
to pass a month in her chateau at Montfaucon, in 
the Ardennes; and mamma is so glad, for she does 
not wish me to go to Spa until I am a young lady. 
Cousin Ilortense is there with her children and 
Cousin Paul Masson.” Louise always called 
Madame de Ileuze “ ma tante” though the Bar- 
oness was simply her father’s second cousin. 

This arrangement gave as much satisfaction to 
Belle as it did to Madame Masson. The image of 
the beautiful and amiable Baroness rose up pleas- 
antly before her; moreover, she had disliked ex- 
ceedingly the idea of appearing at a fashionable 
watering-place, likely to be frequented by Ameri- 
cans, in the train of Mademoiselle Masson. One 
thing alone caused her some misgivings in the pro- 
posed visit to Madame de Ileuze : As Henry Win- 
tlirop would leave for Europe on the first of July, 
how could he find her if he should arrive in Iluy 
in August ? Would he follow her to the Ardennes? 
Surely, if he should come to Belgium to see her, a 
further journey of three hours would not deter him. 


76 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


Before the day fixed on for the departure of the 
Masson family, Belle’s mind was set at rest by a 
letter from Winthrop from the Adelphi Hotel, Liv- 
erpool. He had just landed from a Cunard steamer 
and was off for Scotland; expected to be in Belgium 
in August, and begged for a line from Belle, telling 
him where he should find her during that month. 
His request was complied with. 

A change of location on Madame Masson’s part 
was generally attended by disagreeable experiences 
on the part of her dependents. Being very easily 
excited, she worked off her agitation by flying into 
successive rages. At such times the wary hid them- 
selves; but the simple, or those whose duty kept 
them at their posts, passed, like poor Rabelais, a 
inauvais quart Wheure. However, the lane is long 
that has no turning; and, at last, Madame seated 
herself in the carriage, and her example was quietly 
and joyfully followed by the other travelers. 

Belle’s spirits rose with every mile’s travel ; 
neither Louise’s restlessness nor Madame’s irritabil- 
ity could dampen her light-hearted gaiety in the 
prospect of change, which to the young usually 
promises a bettering of their condition. The land- 
scape through which they were passing was very 
fair to look upon ; low ranges of round hills, clothed 
with the sombre foliage of the pine and the fir, or 
covered with purple heather, stretched away on 


A BELGIAN COUNTRY HOUSE. 


77 


either side of the valley; under the bright summer 
sun deep shadows chased each other over the breezy 
purple downs. 

“Tins must be very like the Scotch Highlands,” 
thought Belle, whose mind was running on Scot- 
land and Scotch scenery. 

At the little station of Marloie, a large family car- 
riage was in waiting to take the Masson party to 
the chateau of Montfaucon. Gustave chose to sit 
with the coachman, Hubert, named after the Saint- 
ed Huntsman, the patron saint of the Ardennes; 
and Belle noted with much amusement the respect- 
ful taciturnity with which the Luxemburg peasant 
met the boy’s loquacity. 

Like a good landlord, the Baron de Heuze was 
served while at Montfaucon by people taken from 
his own estate; only the Baroness’ maid, a staid, 
respectable woman, who rarely went to the village, 
and was most trustworthy, accompanied the family 
to the country; moreover, the prudent Baroness 
would have feared the influence On the simple vil- 
lagers of a houseful of fine city servants. 

Had Belle ever visited Ireland, she would have 
compared the general aspect of the Province of 
Luxemburg rather to Erin than to Scotland: in the 
villages the same dirt, the same disorder, and as 
far as possible (for nothing can quite equal an Irish 
village in this respect) the same shiftlessness; there 


78 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


exists the same aversion to fresh air in the dwell- 
ings, the same paucity of windows, and the same 
tfoops of shock-headed children running in and 
out at the single door in company with dogs, fowls 
and pigs. Even the yawning gullies in all but the 
Government roads, telling of washing rains and of 
neglect, carry out the resemblance. One touch of 
poetry finds a place in the dwellings of the Luxem- 
burg peasant that is wanting in an Irish cabin: 
pots of flowers are in the windows. Many a 
wrinkled face in a mob cap looked out at the chateau 
carriage over rose-bushes or gay geraniums. 

After an hour’s drive, the carriage rolled under 
a heavy arched gateway into a spacious graveled 
court, ornamented in the centre by an enormous 
bright flower-bed, in the form of a star. 

Th Qfagade of the Montfaucon chateau was very 
imposing; the sculptured stone portico, the wide 
perron, on which a dozen people could sit with 
ease, the broad stone steps sweeping down to the 
court-yard, all formed a very attractive ensemble. 
The arms of the Henze family, cut in the stone un- 
der the middle gable, had been defaced at the time 
of the French Revolution, and the damage had 
never been repaired. This feature, joined to the 
present prosperous elegance of its surroundings, 
gave to the building the dignity of age and past 
sorrow, without adding the slightest appearance of 
decadence. 


A BELGIAN COUNTRY HOUSE. 


79 


The Baroness and her niece, Madame Paul Masson, 
were awaiting their guests on the stone perron. 
Though it was not one o’clock in the day, Madame 
de Henze had already laid aside her morning dress, 
while the younger lady was charming to behold in 
her pretty white wrapper. The Baroness discarded 
the use of wrappers, even during the hot summer 
weather, after the early morning hours, for a woman 
qui se laissoit oiler was her abomination, and, to 
her, wrappers savored of laisser oiler. According 
to her code, and she acted up to it, a woman 
should be always neatly dressed, always self-pos- 
sessed ; and, moreover, always on the qui vive, 
without appearing to be so. Nothing in the con- 
duct of her husband, children, servants, or guests 
should escape the watchful eyes of the mistress of 
a house : the husband was to be propitiated ; the 
children guided ; the servants ruled ; and the 
guests managed. No virtue, no devotion, would 
have compensated, in the opinion of Madame de 
Ileuze, for any lack in these fundamental elements 
of feminine conduct. “Life is a combat,” she often 
said, adding her conviction that it behooved all 
women, especially married women, to be continu- 
ally on the watch-tower. “ A woman, for her own 
happiness, cannot be too severely brought up,” said 
she one day to Belle. 

“Ah, Madame,” the young girl replied, “if the 


80 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


men of this country were more severely brought up 
there would be less need of a Spartan education for 
the women.” 

The Baroness received her friends with the great- 
est cordiality, and had also a kind word of welcome 
for Belle, telling her that she had not forgotten 
their pleasant conversation on the occasion of their 
first meeting in ITuy. As the party were going to 
their respective rooms, Belle stood for a moment 
before an open window at the top of the broad 
stairway of dark polished oak, . and took a long 
admiring look at the expanse of meadow and 
orchards, skirted by a belt of sombre forest trees. 
The sweet summer air was laden with the breath 
of the fragrant pines and the scent of flowers, and 
she thought she had never seen a lovelier spot. 

The lunch bell rang, and the newly arrived trav- 
elers did ample justice to a substantial repast 
spread in a dining-room whose walls were frescoed 
with scenes from the life of St. Hubert. A long 
still afternoon followed for Belle — for Louise drove 
out with her mother — in which she could wander at 
will, alone and happy, through the well-kept 
grounds of a foreign chateau. 

In the evening, the family assembled on the 'per- 
ron for coffee. The soft summer twilight was steal- 
ing over the landscape; the low'ng of the home- 
returning cattle and the far-off whistle of a shep- 


A BELGIAN COUNTRY HOUSE . 


81 


herd lad added to the rural harmony. Belle sat 
alone on the lowest step, Monsieur Paul brought her 
a cup of coffee and remained standing beside her* 
He began to talk on his favorite subject — political 
economy; and asked Belle many questions touching 
political life in the United States, to which she gave 
concise and intelligent answers. He finally sum- 
med the matter up from his point of view, by say- 
ing, “ I fear you are too much given up to money- 
making alone, in the United States — ” 

“ Indeed, Sir,” interrupted Belle, looking up 
with her candid gray eyes; “ I have never before 
heard money made so all-important a question as 
it is here in Belgium. In the States, we value 
money for what it will buy, and in great part for 
the excitement of making it; but here it constitutes 
your title to consideration, your life and your soul! ” 
Monsieur Paul smiled at the girl’s vehemence, 
as he replied, “ I am surprised that so sensible a 
young lady should judge a whole nation after the 
expressed opinion of one or two.” 

“ In America,” went on Belle, not much heeding 
Monsieur Paul, “ the loss of money is looked upon 
as a misfortune, never as a calamity, still less as a 
disgrace. One of your compatriots gave expression 
to the generally received opinion here, when he 
said, in answer to the old proverb, ‘Poverty is not 
vice’: ‘ Non, c*est jpire encore .’ ” 

6 


82 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


At this ‘ moment, Madame de Ileuze softly de- 
scended the steps, and stood beside Monsieur Paul. 
“ Mees Adams and I are discussing the social as- 
pect of our several countries,” said that gentleman, 
turning towards the Baroness; “and Mees thinks 
us a very mercenary lot.” 

“ We must not forget, Paul,” said the Baroness, 
with a kind smile at Belle, “ that an old society has 
certain fixed rules and precedents, and consequently 
makes mor e precise demands upon its members than 
need be the case in a young society. We must live 
in the same style in which our fathers lived; spend 
relatively the same amount of money they spent; 
or else w r e fall out of the position we were born to, 
and go dowrn in the world.” 

Paul Masson was a political economist, a lover 
of serious questions rather than of beautiful faces; 
but even he could not fail to notice the pleasing 
contrast offered by the two fair faces before him, 
softly lighted up by the waning evening glow — 
types, as it were, of two distinct civilizations. The 
one face portrayed high-bred, composed loveliness; 
the blue eyes, calm and searching, were tinged with 
a gentle melancholy ; the other, bright and in- 
nocent, expressed naive enthusiasm, tempered by 
natural refinement, the grey eyes the mirror of 
every passing thought— more passing thought than 
passing emotion , as befitted a New England maiden. 


A BELGIAN COUNTRY HOUSE. 


83 


At this moment a discordant note was heard. It 
did not please Madame Masson-Spierley that the 
two most important . people in the company (for the 
Baron de Heuze was not at Montfancon) should be 
devoting themselves to her daughter’s governess. 
“ Mees,” she called sharply, “ my poor Louise is 
half dead with sleep. Pray come and take her to 
bed.” 

Belle rose at once, and Madame Masson followed 
her into the wide hall. “Please remain up-stairs 
with Louise, Mees; the room is strange to the poor 
child, and if she is left alone she may agitate her- 
self.” 

I>elle quietly signified her assent, and Madame 
returned, satisfied, to her arm-chair on the perron. 

“ Paul,” said the Baroness, “ I should like your 
advice on a new flower-bed I have lately had 
planted. Come with me and look at it.” 

“ That little Americaine is very nice,” began 
Monsieur Paul, as the two walked towards the 
garden. 

“ Yes, so she is.” 

“She is so natural, so unaffected. She has no 
silly self-consciousness, but looks at you quietly 
and says what she has to say. She neither blushes 
nor giggles, nor expects a man to be continually 
making pretty speeches. It is refreshing to meet 
a young and intelligent woman who is neither bold 
nor bashful.” 


8-i 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“ I suppose young American girls are in tlie 
habit of seeing gentlemen quite freely and without 
the surveillance of older persons; at least we are 
told so,” said the Baroness, ready to qualify her 
assertion in case some grain of prudence should still 
linger among American mothers and chapbrons. 
“ It is doubtless owing to this custom that their 
young girls are more at ease in the society of gen* 
tlemen than ours are.” 

“ Then it is a great pity that our girls are not 
allowed more liberty, if it would make them leave 
off their silly and affected ways with men,” deci- 
dedly answered Monsieur Paul, who w T as evidently 
born an innovator, an upsetter of established cus- 
toms. This Belgian reformer would have been sur- 
prised indeed to learn that Americans were trying 
to complicate their social relations at the very mo- 
ment when Europeans were striving to simplify 
theirs. 

‘‘Paul,” resumed the Baroness, gently, “great 
liberty can be safely accorded to inexperience in a 
primitive state of society only; it would be a dan- 
gerous experiment in our old Europe. Lambs 
must be hedged where wolves abound. While I 
envy the state of society that makes such a degree 
of liberty for young girls possible, yet I cannot but 
fear that the Americans will in time be forced to 
'acknowledge the truth of the old adage, ‘ Autre 


A BELGIAN COUNTRY HOUSE. 


85 


tetnps, autre maeurs .’ Now give your attention to 
my flower-bed.” 

“ It is too dark to see anything distinctly,” said 
Paul Masson, allowing his abstracted gaze to rest 
for a moment on the parterre in question. 

“ Paul,” resumed the Baroness, after a pause, as 
they were regaining the chateau , “ I would not 
pay too much attention to the little American, if I 
were you. Cousin Masson might not like it; for af- 
ter all, she is Louise’s governess. I am much puz- 
zled to understand how a girl so ladylike, intelligent, 
and in every way superior, should have accepted 
such a position; but she has done so, and the only 
true kindness we can do her is to aid her in keep- 
ing on good terms with her employers.” 

u Pshaw! ” exclaimed Monsieur Paul. Man-like, 
he did not relish being interfered with; and the 
Baroness, having given her advice (indeed, she 
asked him to walk with her for that express purpose) 
did not press the point. 


CHAPTER VII. 

r LEX LOCI. 

“ Mees,” asked the Baroness, of Belle, one after- 
noon shortly after the arrival of the Masson-Spierley 
party at Montfaucon, “ would you like to walk 
with me into the village? I am going to visit one 
or two of the tenants, and should he so glad of 
your company. I should like you to see something 
of our peasant’s home-life, for I feel certain it would 
interest you.” Belle accepted the invitation ex- 
tended to her, with thanks; and, as Madame Masson 
could not veto a suggestion made hy her hostess, 
the two ladies were soon on their way to the village, 
About forty cottages, a church, and a school-house, 
comprised the hamlet of Montfaucon. The most 
important personage in the village was the cure , a 
stout, baldheaded, elderly man, with a narrow fore- 
head and heavy square jaw, who lived next to the 
church in a one-storied stone house, with a green 
door. Like another cure, famous in fiction, he 
would have seen nothing through a telescope but 
his own church steeple. 

( 86 ) 


LEX LOCI. 


8T 


Next in importance to the cure was Monsieur 
Mouton, a well-to-do farmer and burgomaster of the 
village. lie was a small man with a skin like 
tanned leather, and a voice greatly disproportionate 
to his size and name, who appeared to labor under 
the delusion that he was addressing his auditors 
from the other side of a held. Ilissons and daugh- 
ters were as hard working as himself, and his two 
sturdy, not uncomely girls, being heiresses in a 
small way, did not lack admirers. 

As the ladies were ascending the hilly road, in 
many places uneven and deeply gullied, leading to 
the buildings called the Upper Farm, Belle glanced 
from time to time at the Baroness, who was always 
a fascinating object to her. She was bareheaded, 
and carried a large white silk sunshade, lined with 
green so perfect was her complexion, that it ap- 
peared to advantage even under green in a strong 
sunlight. She walked with an easy motion, in 
which pleasure in healthy activity blended with the 
dignified carriage of the grande dame. They came 
to a muddy bit of road, and Belle noted the charac- 
teristic manner in which the Baroness crossed it ; 
she walked quickly, planted her feet firmly, made 
no rash jumps, and cleared the awkward spot with 
neat boots unbespattered and dainty skirts in their 
pristine ^whiteness. “ That is a talent which I do 
not possess, Madame ; I can never pass through 


88 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


mad without carrying the traces of it,” said Belle. 

“ It is a talent that is sometimes useful in life,” 
answered the Baroness, with a half-sad smile. 

As Madame de Jleuze neared the low, irregular 
buildings, which were little more than an assem- 
blage of outhouses and stables, a woman came 
forward to meet them. She wore a short bright 
skirt, a stout black cloth jacket and sabots. As 
soon as she recognized her visitors, her face became 
wreathed with smiles, and courteseys were the or- 
der of the day. 

“How do you do, Fermiere /” said the Bar- 
oness. 

The Fermiere was very well; indeed, the honest 
woman was never anything else; and she hoped 
Madame la baronne was the same, and Monsieur 
le baron and th ejeune dame , and the children. 

As Monsieur Paul never made his appearance in 
the village church, the peasants considered the 
asking after his health “ a custom more honored in 
the breach than in the observance.” Madame 
Paul, on the contrary, or the jeune dame , as they 
called her, was a great favorite; her dresses, her 
children, her lovely face, her piety, her pleasant 
ways, elicited hearty and universal commendation. 
The villagers never suspected how sincere an inter- 
est that dreadful Monsieur Paul took in his wife’s 
proteges, or how much of her charity came directly 


LEX LOCI. 


89 


from his parse. He, on his side, little imagined 
what a bugbear and stumbling-block he was to the 
simple-minded congregation at Montfaucon, or 
how often the cure quoted in his behalf St. Paul’s 
text touching the sanctification of the unbeliev- 
ing husband by the believing wife : a glorious 
thought if widely interpreted, but pitifully narrowed 
down in this especial case. 

Earnest, true, unselfish Paul Masson was to be 
saved by little Madame Paul, whose great merit 
lay in this: that she accepted, without argument or 
reflection, what had been taught her in her child- 
hood. 

The Fermiere was alone; her “man” was in the 
fields with all hands, trying to get in the grain 
while the fine weather held. Would Madame 
la laronne honor her by stepping in to rest for a 
moment? She bustled in after the ladies, dusted 
two chairs with the corner of her apron, for their 
benefit, and then stood blandly smiling at them in 
the middle of the “place” The “place” or kitch- 
en and living-room, was a large, low room, with a 
tiled floor and two narrow windows, not over clean, 
and admitting but little light. Belle heard an odd 
crunching sound, startlingly near, followed by a 
low bleat; the Fermiere dropped her arms from 
her sides, seized a pail of buttermilk, sitting near, 
swung it easily over a half-door, connecting with 


90 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


an adjoining room, and set tlie pail before a young 
calf imprisoned there. The woman’s red petticoat 
hardly reached to her ankles, and in no wise impe- 
ded her movements; the sleeves of her woolen 
jacket were short, and the free, easy motion with 
which she lifted her heavy pail and swung it into 
its place, denoted a strong back that never ached. 
Her round black eves were bright and merry; her 
active figure was plump and compact; her tidy 
hair was braided tight to her head, and her only 
ornaments were a pair of long gold ear-rings, a 
family lieir-loom. 

“Would the ladies like a glass of new sweet 
milk?” Belle assented, and the good woman, well 
pleased, hurried off, soon returning with a very tall 
glass on a very small waiter, looking like a gigan- 
tic light-house on a diminutive island. While the 
Baroness was giving directions concerning the 
stamping of some butter for the chateau , Belle’s 
eyes wandered about the room, taking in several 
details of cottage furnishing in the Ardennes. A 
crucifix hung over the wide chimney, and a branch 
of box, the holy “ huis ,” was suspended from it; 
pots of flowers half obscured the windows, and a 
row of curious old-fashioned blue china plates 
ornamented the high mantle-piece. In the place of 
the Hew England eight- day clock, with its sober 
face and warning tick, was a collection of sacred 


LEX LOCI. 


91 


images stowed away behind a glass door: a blue 
and white Virgin, a good St. Joseph with the An- 
nunciation lily, a St. Hubert with his dogs at his 
feet, and a St. Roch pointing to his wounded leg. 

“ IIow strong that woman is!” said Belle, with a 
little sigh, as they turned to leave the farm. 

“Yes,” answered the Baroness, “when the peasants 
are well enough off to get plenty of good food, their 
out-door lives and the healthy exercise they take 
make them very robust. The Fermiere has already 
done a good day’s work, for she has been up and 
on her feet since four o’clock this morning, yet she 
looks as fresh as if the day were but commencing 
for hen You have no peasant class in America, 
Mees?” 

“Ho, nothing that answers to it, except per- 
haps the German emigrants at the West ; but they 
very soon lose what is distinctive of the peasant 
class of this country.” 

“ I should think that the peasants would interest 
you very much, though what makes them a distinc- 
tive class is fast disappearing, even in Europe. 
Railroads, books and schools are fast metamorphos- 
ing the peasant, as # he is in this little hamlet of 
Montfaucon, for example. Here the people are 
born, live and die on the same spot, and their farms 
and fields are their world. Year by year they go 
through the same routine ; nothing changes in 


92 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


their quiet lives ; consequently there is nothing so 

difficult as to make a peasant accept a new idea. 

Anything that he has not always seen done in his 

village appears both impossible and suspicious to 

him. If I want a crop changed, or any innovation 

introduced, I commence to speak of it months 

beforehand, dropping a word here and there; thus my 

tenants’ minds are gradually prepared to accept the 

change. For two or three months they ruminate 

upon the matter; from hearing it often discussed, it 

begins to appear feasible to them, and, at last, they 

are brought to recognize the proposed innovation 

as a fact, and then they are ready to do their part 

toward bringing it about.” 

© © 

All this was very novel and amusing to Belle, 
used to the somewhat kaleidoscopical character of 
American life; and the Baroness smiled in sym- 
pathy with her amusement, though she continued 
seriously: “ If, however, my husband or I should 
neglect these wise precautions, and tell the good 
Ardennes peasants that to-day or next week some- 
thing was to be done, however simple in itself, that 
neither they nor their parents had ever seen, the 
poor people would be completely lost and bewil- 
dered at the suddeness of the change.” 

© 

“ And so, the acme of the modern world’s aspira- 
tions, some new thing, is an abomination to the 
peasant? ” 


LEX LOCI. 


93 


u Just so; you see their lives run constantly in 
one groove, seedtime and harvest, harvest and seed- 
time. They are rarely roused out of this monoto- 
nous life, being too hard worked and having too 
little intelligence to take family trouble to heart, 
unless it involves extreme poverty; and this dull 
uniformity blunts the mental faculties and leaves 
them helpless before an emergency. We must also 
be careful not to confuse them by giving them too 
many ideas at once.” 

“ And have the women no more sprightliness 
than the men? are they as stolid?” 

“ Quite as stolid,” answered the Baroness smil- 
ing. “ If you take a maid-servant into your house 
from this class, be she young or old, twenty or 
forty, you can - give her two orders at a time, but 
not three. You can say, ‘Jeannette, wash the 
dishes and wipe them again;’ aud then it would be 
wise to add, ‘ then come to me for further orders,’ 
or poor Jeannette will become hopelessly confused, 
having so much on her mind at once. Only months, 
sometimes years, of training will make it safe to 
multiply instructions. Have you noticed a short 
girl, with very black eyes, trotting about in the 
kitchen-garden? ” 

“ Yes, I think I have.” 

“ That girl is an example of what I have been 
telling you; she is our head gardener’s niece, and 


94 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


I employ her as scullery-maid; she is a hard 
worker, one of the best conducted girls in the par- 
ish, and comes of an honest family. Poor thing ! 
she always loses her head when we have company; at 
first she always made a point of breaking a few dishes 
in her excitement, but our old cook, Barbe, is hav- 
ing great patience with her (she is herself from the 
village) so in time Therese will learn to keep cool, 
even if we do have unexpected guests at dinner.” 

Here the Baroness brought her information to an 
end, and stopped before a cottage, one of several of 
a somewhat better class, near the priest’s house. 

“This is our head game-keeper’s cottage; will 
you come in with me to see old Felicien ? He is 
nearly eighty years old, but he still retains his post 
as head game-keeper; for he has been one of the 
most faithful of servants from his boyhood, and my 
husband is much attached to him.” 

While the Baroness was speaking, she led the 
way into a cleaner and more commodious little 
dwelling than any other in the village except the 
priest’s. White muslin curtains hung before the 
windows; and through the open door at the further 
end of the narrow stone-flagged passage, the visit- 
ors caught a glimpse of a bright little flower-gar- 
den. An old man, with a small black skull-cap on 
his head, sat by the window, leaning on a stout 
ashen stick. 


LEX LOCI. 


95 


Felicien was a handsome, hale-looking old man, 
though for the past few years a prisoner in his 
chair on account of the rheumatism which had 
settled in his feet and legs. The exposure attendant 
upon his duties as game-keeper had brought this 
foe upon him ; many a night, as a younger man, had 
lie passed crouching in the damp heather. When 
the Baroness entered he tried to rise, removing his 
cap with a gesture both stately and deferential — 
such a bow, in fact, as would have delighted Ches- 
terfield himself. All his life he had been much 
with the gentlemen at the chateau/ he had been the 
late Baron’s factotum, and had taught the present 
Baron how to handle his first gun and initiated 
him into the science of woodcraft. Felicien’s con- 
stant intercourse with the gentry had given him an 
ease of manner that caused him to be much looked 
up to in the village; nor had his wife failed to join 
the general admiration society. 

The Baroness inquired after her ancient retainer’s 
health, and asked old Frangoise, his wife, if her 
husband had all he needed. Frangoise was as un- 
prepossessing in her appearance as her husband 
was good-looking; her skin was yellow and wrink- 
led, her blue eyes weak and washed out, her jaws 
had fallen in, her voice was high and quavering, 
and except that she was active, while Felicien was 
helpless, she appeared much the older of the two. 


96 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


• Handsome Felicien’s unswerving fidelity to the 
ugliest woman in the parish had been a standing 
marvel in their young days. 

Old Frangoise now stood by her husband’s chair, 
her hands folded in front of her, attentive to all 
that was said, but not speaking unless spoken to. 
She regarded her husband as partly belonging to 
the gentry, and when gentlefolks were present she 
was content to take the position of nurse and serv- 
an t. 

There was another elderly woman present, who 
was by no means willing to remain in the back- 
ground. This was the priest’s housekeeper and 
cousin, who rejoiced in the name of Marie-Joseph, 
a frequent visitor at Felicien’s cottage, and ranking 
with him among the elite of the village. She was 
a mite of a woman, with cheeks like a frost-bitten 
apple, and blue eyes, with w T hat the Scotch call a 
“ glint” in them. Marie-Joseph dropped her 
courtes} 7- to the ladies on their entrance, and then 
resumed her knitting, glancing up occasionally and 
losing no word of the conversation. 

“ Does Madame expect Monsieur le laron soon? ” 
inquired Felicien. 

“ Yes, on Friday,” answered the Baroness. 

u Will Madame tell him that snares have been 
set for partridges on the Hononcourt estate, and 
ask him if I shall send out a double watch? Thomas 


LEX LOCI. 


97 


saw a covey of young quails in the grove on the 
top of Mon Flaisir. I hope the ladies will not 
take their dogs when they walk that way.” 

u Have there been many boars seen lately, 
Felicien?” 

u Fortunately they are fewer than last year,” 
returned the old man. “When the snow comes 
we must have a general hunt. Madame knows 
that is the only way to thin them out. One of the 
IN’ononcourt game-keepers said a drove passed 
through the Ladies’ Wood last week; but I do not 
know how that is myself. If the story comes 
through Jacques Mervin, I do not put too much 
faith in it. If he is a game- keeper, I do not 
believe, saving Madame’s presence, that Jacques 
knows a boar from a pig.” 

“ Quand on est bete, c’est four longtemjos , allez , 
Madame,” struck in Marie- Joseph. 

The Baroness laughed, and Felicien chuckled a 
bit to himself, after giving the Baroness an apolo- 
getic glance. The poor cure had often expostulated 
with his cousin and faithful servant on the freedom 
of her manners, begging her again and again to 
address the gentry in the third person, as the other 
villagers did; but Marie- Joseph stood firm; she 
was “ not going to talk to the air,” she said; and 
if she was good enough to speak to, she was good 
enough to listen to. 

7 . ,, , 


98 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


These expostulations had taken place years ago, 
when the cure was much younger, and compara- 
tively energetic. Now he was old, fat, and helpless, 
and utterly unequal to a contest with Marie- Joseph, 
who looked after his comfort, and tyrannized over 
him to her heart’s content. She was the smartest 
woman, the best cook, and had the sharpest tongue, 
in the parish. 

Seeing Marie-Joseph’s sudden entrance into the 
conversation had disconcerted old Frangoise, Mad- 
ame de Heuze caused a diversion by calling 
attention to Belle, saying, “ This young lady is 
from America, Felicien.” Marie-Josepli dropped 
her knitting and stared at Belle. 

“ Ah? Mademoiselle has come along way,” said 
Felicien, turning to Belle, with his courtly bow. 

“ That’s a country that is over the sea, as I’ve 
heard?” he continued, looking interrogatively at 
Madame de Heuze. Even Frangoise’s faded blue 
eyes rested for a moment with an appearance of 
interest on Belle, but seeing only a pretty young 
lady, dressed like the gentry, her somewhat apa- 
thetic gaze sought again her husband’s face. Amer- 
ica was a word that had but small significance to 
Frangoise. England, China, America, — it was all 
one to her. The irrepressible Marie-Joseph broke 
in again: “A nephew of mine went to that coun- 
try. Perhaps the young lady knows something 


LEX LOCI. 


99 


about him.” Here she gave a sidelong glance at 
Belle. “ He was my sister’s son, Jacques Porchat, 
and he went to a village called — something like 
Canard. That’s why I remember the name,” con- 
tinued Marie- Joseph, with a twinkle in her merry 
blue eyes. 

After a moment’s thought, Belle asked, smiling, 
“ Do you mean Canada ? ” 

“That ’s it, Mademoiselle — Canada; Jacques Por- 
chat ; do you know anything of him ? ” 

Belle was obliged to confess that she had never 
heard of Jacques Porchat, and hastened to explain 
that she lived a long distance from Canada. The 
ladies rose to go. As the Baroness was leaving, she 
slipped a package of chocolate into the old man’s 
hand, which he received with profuse thanks, while 
Frangoise’s wrinkled face beamed with gratitude ; 
and she dropped her simple courtesy, as the ladies 
passed out, and said, “ Bonjour , la iomjpagnie” as 
she had done since first taught her manners as a 
slip of a girl. 

“It’s little good we shall ever hear of Jacques 
Porchat, I’ll be bound ! ” exclaimed Marie-Joseph, 
as soon as the ladies had gone. u Thou mindest 
Jacques, Felicien ; he made his poor mother a world 
of trouble until they got him out of the country, 
and a goose will cackle all the world over. I asked 
news of him, for after all he ’s kin, and if I knock 


100 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


my nose, I hurt my face,, I always say. I thought, 
too, a word about the lad w T ould please my sister. 
He’s one of them kind as no news is good news, 
I take it; but then, I’m not his mother.” Here 
Marie-Joseph paused to take breath, but only to 
take breath, for she resumed again: “ The young 
lady is gentry, so it’s not likely she was ever in the 
way of hearing anything of a poor devil like 
Jacques; but as to Canada’s being so far from 
where she lives, it’s all the same place, isn’t it — 
it’s all America?” 

“America ’s a deal larger country than the Lux- 
emburg,” replied old Felicien, with a pitying smile 
for Marie- Joseph’s ignorance. Marie-Joseph caught 
the smile, and resented it. “ Well,” she said, rising, 
knitting in hand, “ it may be so. I never swear to 
what I have not seen myself, and I never was one 
for believing every idle tale a tramp may tell about 
foreign parts.”* 

“ Art thou going so soon? ” asked old Frangoise, 
gently. 

“ Yes, it will soon be time to see after Mon- 
sieur’s supper.” 

Marie Joseph never spoke of her cousin but as 
“ Monsieur,” or “ Monsieur le cure.” 

She gave Felicien but a scant nod as she went 
out, which he answered by one of his best bows: a 
mode of retaliation which he had seen practiced 


LEX LOCI. 


101 


among gentlefolks. Frangoise followed her friend 
to the door, twisting her white apron nervously in 
her wrinkled hands, but unable to think of any- 
thing conciliatory to say. It was no uncommon 
thing for a visit to end in a tiff between old Felic- 
ien and Marie- Joseph. 

“ What a tete ardennaise that Marie- Joseph 
has! ” exclaimed Felicien, when his wife came back 
to his chair; “ if she once said that the sun rose at 
midnight, I believe she’d stick to it through all 
eternity.” 

The Baron returned on Friday, and his wife gave 
him Felicien’s message respecting the double watch. 
Monsieur de Heuze was much excited over a decis- 
ion that had just been rendered in Brussels, regard- 
ing a bank defalcation; and after dinner Belle heard 
the matter very freely discussed. 

The Baron, Monsieur Masson-Spierley, and Mon- 
sieur Paul Masson, gave each his opinion while sip- 
ping his coffee. 

“So judgment has been rendered in the Dyck 
case,” said Madame Masson-Spierley to her hus- 
band. 

“Yes, it has,” he answered. 

“ What is it \ ” asked the Baroness. 

“ Five years imprisonment for the old man,” an- 
swered the Baron. 

“ What a sad case!” returned his wife, compas- 


102 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


sionately ; “ he is nearly seventy years old — and his 
poor family ! ” 

“ He should have thought of that before he 
stole, my dear lady,” said Monsieur Masson-Spier- 
ley, tossing off a glass of curagoa ; “ but,” he con- 
tinued, half gallantly, half pompously, “you ladies 
have such tender hearts that you would never do to 
be judges, forced to mete out even-handed justice.” 

“ Do you consider that ‘ even-handed justice ’ has 
been meted out in this case, Uncle de Ileuze ? ” 
asked Monsieur Paul, dryly, ignoring Monsieur 
Masson. 

The Baron made a slight grimace and half 
shrugged his shoulders ; he was not fond of being 
asked leading questions, so he remained silent. 

Monsieur Masson-Spierley interrupted, red in 
the face: “ My good Paul, what is to be done with 
a man who steals, if he is not to be imprisoned ? ” 

“What do you think, Uncle de Heuze?” per- 
sisted Paul Masson, still ignoring Monsieur Masson- 
Spierley. 

The Baron saw there was no escape for him; for 
“ ce cher Paul ” was determined to have an answer. 

“ I think,” said the Baron, who generally came 
over to the right side when forced to express him- 
self, “ I think it an undoubtedly hard case, and that 
ces messieurs de Clavel gave their cashier altogether 
too little for the work he did for them.” 


LEX LOCI. 


103 


“ How furious they will be! they thought no one 
could get ahead of them. I should have liked to 
see old Clavel’s face when he found it out. They 
served me a mean trick about ten years ago, and 
now they are paid for it,” said Monsieur Masson, 
gleefully. 

“They say this Dyck affair has hurt the bank’s 
credit, and that people are withdrawing their de- 
posits,” remarked the Baron. 

“ On what ground ? ” inquired Monsieur Paul, 
eagerly. 

“The public fear old Dyck may have had an ac- 
complice, and people have rather lost faith in the 
de Clavels as business men.” 

Paul Masson looked disappointed. “If I had 
any money with them, I ’d draw it out to-morrow; 
but not on those grounds,” said he. 

“Paul,” said the Baroness, “tell us all about it. 
What you gentlemen have said has made us curi- 
ous to hear the whole story, has it not, Hortense ?” 

“ Oh, yes, indeed ! ” acquiesced Madame Paul. 

“The facts are these, Aunt,” began Monsieur 
Paul, dryly. “Forty years ago, the Bankers de 
Clavel, rich and influential men, as you know, en- 
gaged a man named Dyck to act as cashier, at a 
salary of fifteen hundred francs a year. He was 
a married man, with a rapidly increasing family. 
After some years, his wealthy employers, in consid- 


104 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


eration of his long and faithful services, raised his 
salary to eighteen hundred francs a year ! I have 
made the calculation, and I find each member of his 
family had fifty centimes a day to live on. This 
beggarly stipend was supposed to suffice for the 
food, clothing, education, and a start in life, for ten 
children. Could you manage that, Iiortense ? ” 
said Monsieur Paul, turning suddenly towards his 
wife. 

Poor Madame Paul gave him a piteous, puzzled 
look, and confessed, with a deep blush, that she 
would not be “ equal to the occasion.” 

Monsieur Paul resumed his statement of old 
Dyck’s troubles : “ He stood the strain for ten 

years; his children were young, and living was 
much cheaper thirty years ago in Belgium than it 
is to-day. At the end of the first ten years, in an 
evil moment, he commenced to take sums of money 
from his employers — small sums. During thirty 
years he has taken in all forty-five thousand francs. 

“ You will observe,” went on Monsieur Paul, as 
if pleading a client’s case at the bar, “ that Dyck 
had the handling of millions, and that what he 
took from his employers amounted to no more than 
a fair salary: forty-five thousand francs is not high 
pay for thirty years’ work, even with his pittance 
of a salary added. How, at seventy, the unfortun- 
ate man is a convicted felon — cut off from every- 


LEX LOCI . 


105 


thing that makes the solace of old age. The bank- 
ers de Clavel stand high in the church and in the 
world ; society pities them for having been so grossly 
betrayed by a man in whom they placed confidence, 
but I, for my part, fail to see the * even-handed 
justice’ in the matter that Uncle Masson admires 
so much.” 

“ Oh, Paul! ” exclaimed his wife, much troubled, 
“ you are not going to say that you think it right 
to steal?” 

“Certainly not, my dear child; but neither do I 
think it right to put a man with a family in a po- 
sition where he and they must steal or starve.” 

“ Could he not have resigned and have taken an- 
other position?” ventured the Baroness, gently. 

“ Situations are difficult to obtain in this over- 
crowded country, especially for a man who has 
been accustomed to one kind of work for years,” 
said the Baron. 

“ Perhaps,” suggested his wife, “ if he had ex- 
plained his trouble to his employers, ces Messieurs 
de Clavel — ” 

“ Les Messieurs de Clavel have not the reputa- 
tion of being very sympathetic men,” interrupted 
Monsieur Paul. “ They would have taken but a 
mediocre interest in their cashier’s financial troubles, 
and would probably have told him that they could 
find younger and abler men to fill his place, who 
would be satisfied with his salary.” 


106 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


Poor Madame de Ileuze, having made two inef- 
fectual attempts to pour oil on the troubled waters 
of Monsieur Paul’s wrath, now held her peace. 
Her sympathies were with him in his view of the 
question, but she was conservative by nature, a great 
respecter of the powers that be, and she would have 
considered it a dangerous precedent to defend any act 
savoring of rebellion against the established order 
of things. Ho such scruples troubled Monsieur 
Paul, so he continued with greater vehemence than 
ever: ‘‘There is no question but that it would have 
been wiser in Dyck to have sent his children out to 
beg, rather than dishonor them by a defalca- 
tion in his old age; but the first sin lies at the de 
Clavel’s door, in my opinion. And if people won- 
der, in the face of such flagrant injustice, at the cry 
of 4 Labor versus Capital,’ I do not.” 

Paul Masson took his cigar and walked down the 
steps into the cool garden. Belle felt an impulse, 
which she wisely restrained, to clap her hands, and 
cry “ Bravo ! ” 

“ I think we have had quite enough of heroics 
for one evening,” said Madame Masson -Spierley, 
with a yawn. “ For my part, I agree with a good 
friend of mine in liny, who says that people must 
content themselves with bread, if they cannot af- 
ford cake.” 

“ I really think, Hortense,” broke in Monsieur 


LEX LOCI. 


107 


Masson, shaking his head gravely, “ that you should 
make Paul more careful than he is in what he says. 
You ’ll have all your servants stealing next, under 
the impression that they are only taking their just 
dues; and, for all his fine theories, Paul would like 
that just as little as any of us.” 

“ There is no wiser or kinder man in the world 
than my husband,” answered Madame Paul, loy- 
ally: “only,” she added, with a faint sigh, “I do 
wish he were more like other people.” 

“That’s just what 1 have often said; he is not 
like other people,” said Madame Masson-Spierley ; 
“ and that is a very dangerous thing. There ’s no 
knowing what eccentric children yours may turn 
out, Ilortense. Almost as odd as English people, 
perhaps.” 

Poor Madame Paul was struck in a very vulner- 
able spot. She glanced imploringly at her aunt, as 
if to beg protection against this new danger wdiich 
threatened, while she asked in a trembling voice, 
“You do not think that Paul’s eccentricity has 
affected the children, do you, Aunt de Ileuze?” 

“ I think Adele and little Paul very like other 
children, only that they behave much better than 
many I know,” answered Madame de Henze, re- 
assuringly. 

Monsieur Masson felt vaguely that this speech 
w r as intended to reflect upon his dear #Lou- 


108 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


lou, wlio had that day distinguished herself by 
breaking the branches of several young fruit trees, 
so he wisely let the subject drop. Not so his wife; 
she came valiantly to the front in behalf of her off- 
spring: “Hortense is very fortunate in having a 
careful bonne , who watches over her little ones; 
when young people break bounds, it is generally 
the fault of those whose duty it is to look after 
them.” 

Madame Masson soon regained her equanimit} T , 
under the pleasing conviction that she had annihi- 
lated both Madame de Ileuze and Belle. 

Monsieur Paul remained some time in the garden ; 
from the perron the light of his cigar could be seen 
moving about under the trees. When he rejoined 
his friends, he had resumed his usually placid de- 
meanor. 




* 


CHAPTER VIII. 

A VILLAGE FETE. 

The ladies at the castle of Montfaucon lived in 
the open air; in the morning they sat on the lawn 
with their work, while the children played about 
them; in the afternoon they walked or drove; and 
the evening, until bedtime, was passed on the per- 
ron. The evening lamps burned dimly in the de- 
serted drawing rooms, for where Madame de Heuze 
reigned, though there was profusion, not even a 
lamp- wick was wasted. 

^Neither damp weather nor rain deterred the 
ladies from taking their usual out-of-door exercise. 
The first Sunday after her arrival at the castle, 
Belle watched the Baroness de Henze pacing up 
and down the shrubbery by her husband’s side for 
a full hour in a drizzling rain, with no covering on 
her pretty brown hair, and only a scarf thrown over 
her shoulders. 

In spite of the lovely weather, the grandeur of 
the Ardennes scenery, and the novelty of being 
an inmate of a foreign chateau , Belle’s eager antic- 
( 109 ) 


110 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


ipations on leaving Huy had not all been realized, 
for her dependent position was made quite as difficult 
to her at the chateau as it had been in liny. Mad- 
ame Masson judged it wise to counteract the kind- 
ness of others by 'being as rude to Belle herself as 
she dared. 

One warm morning the ladies were sitting in a 
long covered arbor, called the Greve, when the 
Baroness came toward them, holding an open let- 
ter in her hand. 

“ Cousin,” said she, addressing Madame Masson- 
Spierley, “your handsome nephew Adolphe will 
drop down upon us this evening. He is to be at 
Marloie at eight o’clock, and as Anatole returns 
from Brussels by that train, I have arranged to 
have the dog-cart meet them both.” 

“ I cannot see what has put that into Adolphe’s 
head,” said Madame Masson, speaking, in her an- 
noyance, with more frankness than politeness. “ I 
thought he had decided to go to Spa; I confess, 
Pauline, that my 4 handsome nephew,’ as you call 
him, is somewhat of a responsibility on my hands; 
not but what I am equal to it,” she continued, with a 
covert glance at Belle, who was teaching Louise 
and little Adele English, and smiling at the younger 
child’s pretty foreign pronunciation, perfectly ob- 
livious of Monsieur Spierley, and quite indifferent 
to his proposed arrival. 


A VILLAGE FETE. 


Ill 


In the evening Adolphe arrived, in company with 
the master of the house, whose prominent position 
at the ministere demanded frequent absence from 
home; his return was always a fete to his wife. 
The Baroness received her husband with a quiet 
“ Bonjour , cher ami , ” yet her deep blue eyes 
sparkled, and the hand she placed in his trembled 
slightly as he stooped to kiss her white forehead. 
Belle was in her own room when the gentlemen 
arrived, nor was she called upon to appear down- 
stairs, for Madame Masson escorted Louise to her 
room when it was time for the child to retire. 

The next morning Adolphe was down early; 
refusing to accompany the Baron, always an early 
riser, for a ride, he sauntered into the flower gar- 
den, while the Baron rode off alone. Monsieur 
Masson-Spierley had not yet left his room. lie could 
never manage a horse, though he boldly asserted 
on all occasions that the equine animal did not 
exist that lie could not bring into subjection. Paul 
Masson made no pretension to being either a horse- 
man or a sportsman. 

If Adolphe’s motive for remaining at home had 
been to see Belle, he was rewarded, for a turn in 
the garden path brought him suddenly face to face 
with her. The young girl was walking gravely 
along, her somewhat downcast gaze fixed on the 
path before her, a book in her hand, and her pretty 


112 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


garden hat, with its fluttering ribbons, the only 
jocund thing about her, hanging from her arm. 
Adolphe’s face flushed crimson. Since he had last 
seen Belle, his thoughts had dwelt constantly on 
her sweet face. He advanced, therefore, with eager 
eyes and outstretched hands. There was a look, 
however, in the girl’s steady gray eyes, as she raised 
them, that checked his headlong career. He fell 
back a step or two, held out his hand and stam- 
mered, “How do you do, Mees Adams?” 

“ I am very well, thank you,” answered Belle 
quietly, and not enthusiastically. She was not over- 
pleased with the intrusion, for the early morning 
hour alone in the garden was a rest and a solace. 
“ Is your book interesting ? ” inquired the young 
man, feeling himself strangely embarrassed, and 
catching, like a drowning man at a straw, at the 
first subject of conversation which presented itself. 
Belle silently handed him the volume : Arnold’s 
“ Literature and Dogma.” 

If Adolphe imagined that he could draw into an 
equivocal flirtation a young American girl who 
carried such a work as “Literature and Dogma” on 
her morning walks, he was doomed to disappoint- 
ment ; but the young Belgian had had no experi- 
ence with women like Belle, and, being unable to 
read English, the title of the book did not en- 
lighten him. He felt himself checked, if unable 


A VILLAGE FETE. 


113 


to account for it, and it was Belle who kept up the 
conversation, while directing her steps to the house 

“ My dear,” called Monsieur Masson-Spierley to 
his wife, “ here come Adolphe and Mees, walking 
along like lovers.” The gentleman leaned forward 
on his tiptoes to peep through the half-open blinds, 
his goggle eyes rolling about in pleased excitement. 
His wife joined him in hot haste, saying: “ I knew 
that would be the next thing; depend upon it, Mas- 
son, Mees is not as demure as she looks. Do you 
not see what a fancy Pauline and Paul have taken 
to her? I am sure she complains to them about us, 
and tells them she is unhappy. I felt from the. first 
that she was too uncommunicative with me to be 
straightforward.” 

It was a high crime and misdemeanor in Mad- 
ame’s eyes when her dependents did not confide all 
their private affairs to her. 

Looking up at his aunt’s' windows as he passed, 
Adolphe saw the two heads there; his aunt look- 
ing like a Medusa in her righteous indignation, 
and his uncle grinning and winking at him over 
her shoulder. Belle’s eyes were on the ground, so« 
she did not see her employers; even if she had, 
she would have continued on her way in benighted 
peace, ignoring the cause of Madame’s anger or 
Monsieur’s winks. Belle had found Adolphe a 
gay and agreeable companion enough when he was 
8 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


114 


in liny; but after what she had heard through 
Madame Paul, she had become so indifferent to the 
young man that she did not eyen take the trouble to 
avoid him pointedly. 'Nor did Madam e’s constant 
watchfulness attract Belle’s attention ; her guileless 
spirit and inexperience, together with her simple 
bringing up, made it impossible for her to detect 
the insulting suspicion that lay under Madame’s 
surveillance / she saw no meaning in it — at least, 
none that concerned herself. 

Sometimes of an afternoon, Belle and Louise 
betook themselves to a rustic seat on a heather-cov- 
ered hill, where they worked or read, or Belle pre- 
tended to listen to Louise’s incessant chatter. 

“Loulou,” said Adolphe in a caressing voice, 
“ where do Mees and you go after luncheon ? ” 

“We generally go to the bench on the top of 
Mon Plaiser,” answered his cousin, promptly. 

That evening Louise dutifully repeated to her 
mamma that “mon cousin Adolphe” had met them 
on Mon Plaiser, and that he had talked to Mees for 
a long time. 

“If this sort of thing is carried much further, it 
will be my duty to speak to Cousin de Heuze,” said 
Madame, after hearing her daughter’s report, and 
giving her a handful of chocolate-drops by way of 
reward. 

Though a jeunefille, Louise was quite as well up 


A VILLAGE FETE. 


115 


to reporting on what was supposed to be a question- 
able love intrigue as if she were thirty. Belle was 
often astonished and pained to see that the young 
girl was the first to understand her father’s coarse 
jokes. The grin that overspread her pupil’s face 
was oftentimes the young governess’ first intimation 
that there was a double meaning in some, to her, 
harmless or silly jest of Monsieur Masson’s. 

The Baron had returned to Montfaucon to be 
present at the procession round the parish that took 
place on the fifteenth of August, the feast of the 
Assumption or Translation of the Virgin. This 
important festival in the Roman Church fell on the 
second day after Monsieur Spierley’s arrival. The 
Baron and Baroness, Monsieur and Madame Mas- 
son-Spierlev, with Louise and Gustave, went to 
High Mass. After the departure of the church 
party, Belle, who was looking out of her window, 
saw Madame Paul’s white dress flitting about the 
flower garden, and went down to join her. “ What 
are you going to do with all those flowers, Mad- 
ame?” asked Belle of the little lady, whose hands 
w T ere full of roses. 

“ I am going to trim our chapel with them, for 
the procession stops here on its way round the par- 
ish. I must hurry, for it is now after ten, and by 
noon they will be here. The maids have all gone 
to church, except Barbe and my nurse. How hot 


116 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


the sun is! I fear I shall never get through with my 
decorations.” 

“ Cannot I help you ? I should be glad to be of 
service,” said Belle, relieving Madame Paul of half 
her floral burden, and following her into the chapel, 
which was built into a side wing of the chateau and 
entered from the court-yard. The inside was cool 
and inviting, after coming out of the glare of the 
summer sun ; the ceiling was painted white with 
gilded mouldings, and the head gardener had lined 
the walls with tall ferns and flowering shrubs. The 
altar was bare of ornament with the exception of 
what pertains to the rites of a very simple service: 
a white lace altar-cloth over blue, a handsome silver 
crucifix, and two massive candlesticks of the same 
precious metal, were the only decorations. No 
sacred wafers were kept on the altar, as the chapel 
was rarely used. Once a year, at the feast of the 
Assumption, the parish priest brought the Host, and 
blessed the chateau and its inhabitants with in- 
cense and prayer. 

Belle was at no loss how to decorate the little vil- 
lage church ; she had often assisted in such work 
at home, and knew some pretty modes of arrang- 
ing flowers in a graceful way, which were novel to 
Madame Paul, accustomed only to the somewhat 
stiff floral decorations prevailing in Belgium. The 
little lady watched Belle at her work in mute ad- 


A VILLAGE FETE. 


117 


miration : at length she exclaimed, “How pleased 
Aunt de Henze will be ! you have arranged every- 
thing so beautifully ! Those red and white roses 
with the green leaves between make a lovely cross. 
I believe Monsieur le cure will notice it, and fancy 
some kind fairy has lent her aid.” 

Monsieur le cure was not likely to fancy any- 
thing half so poetical. Bed and yellow dahlias 
would have been far finer and more effective in his 
eyes. 

“ It would have made me so happy to walk in 
the procession,” sighed Madame Paul. “Auntde 
Heuze always does; but Paul forbade it, because it 
made me ill last year. I went to early mass this 
morning, and to Holy Communion, and that was 
the best I could do.” 

“It will be very warm walking in the sun,” said 
Belle, giving the finishing touches to her deft han- 
diwork. 

“ I should have liked all the same to walk in the 
procession,” continued Madame Paul, who was apt 
to cling to an idea in a gentle way, “only Aunt de 
Heuze always says that a woman’s first duty is to 
her husband ; and of' course she knows best. 
Monsieur le cure would have given me instant abso- 
lution if I had spoken to him about it in confession 
yesterday evening; but I did not like to, because 1 
do not think he quite appreciates Paul.” 


118 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“ You loyal little soul ! ” thought Belle to herself; 
and without fully knowing why, the tears sprang 
to her eyes. Sometimes a very simple word or ac- 
tion will bring them. Then she said aloud, smiling 
through her tears: 

“ I think you are quite right in all you have done 
and left undone, dear Madame.” Madame Paul 
did not seize the full meaning of Belle’s words; but 
they signified approval, and she was content. The 
gardener fetched two cushions from the drawing- 
room for the officiating priests to kneel on, the 
chapel was swept for the last time, and all the prep- 
arations were completed. 

Madame Paul brought her two little ones to 
the perron to see the procession enter the court-yard 
and to receive the priest’s blessing. Wearied with 
her exertions, she seated herself, a child on either 
side of her, and the three innocent blonde heads 
made a sweet picture. The court-yard was strewed 
with flowers, and the whole party, having returned 
from church, gathered on the perron. The Baroness 
was missing; she followed the priest, who was car- 
rying the Host, up to her own door. 

About half-past twelve the church bells rang out 
a joyous peal; a few moments later the sound of 
chanting was heard, in which the deep notes of the 
priests blended not inharmoniouslv with the clear 
high voices of the school children, distance and the 
open air softening all discords. 


A VILLAGE FETE. 


119 


“ Here they come, Monsieur le baron” called tlie 
head gardener in an excited tone. 

The chanting grew louder and less harmonious; 
the tramping of many feet, accompanied by the ring- 
ing of a bell, approached, and the avant-garde en- 
tered an impromptu avenue of sapling boughs that 
led from the stone gateway to the chapel door. A 
very harmless avant-garde it was, made up of little 
girls who had taken their “ First Communion” that 
year. They walked two by two, wearing white dresses 
and vails, and each bore in her hand an Annunciation 
lily, whose silver petals glistened in the sun. They 
were followed by a band of school- children singing; 
then came four young girls dressed in white with 
blue sashes, white and blue bonnets and white cot- 
ton gloves ; they carried between them a statue of 
the Virgin slung on poles; it must have been no 
light weight, but these sturdy young women bore 
it with ease. Among the quartette, Belle recog- 
nized the head-gardener’s niece, whose black eyes 
were cast demurely down, and who was evidently 
performing her part in the day’s ceremony with 
great seriousness. The cure was too old and too 
apoplectic to risk walking bareheaded in a hot sun, 
more especially as the village of Montfaucon did 
not possess a palanquin, so a young vicar from a 
neighboring parish carried the Host, while the cure 
walked immediately behind. The good man held 


120 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


a large blue cotton umbrella over bis bald bead, and 
a red silk handkerchief and a snuff-box in his hand. 
These slight incongruities troubled no one; it was 
la religion , and it was Monsieur le cure , and in the 
ejes of his parishioners all appeared quite fitting. 

Behind the cure walked Burgomaster Monton, 
keeping a sharp look-out that every one kneeled 
down at the proper time, and that the village boys 
behaved themselves with due decorum. He sang 
lustily, and it was easy to see that he entered into 
what he was doing with his .whole heart, though 
his lined and weather- beaten face contrasted oddly 
enough with his gorgeous vestments of embroidered 
cloth of gold. 

The Baroness slipped out of her place beside 
Monsieur Mouton, and entered the chapel, where 
she was joined by the inmates of the chateau. 
Belle looked around for Monsieur Paul Masson, but 
he was nowhere to be seen; though she caught a 
glimpse of Adolphe, leaning in a supercilious atti- 
tude against the chapel door. He was standing in 
the midst of a group of young villagers, belonging 
to the Confraternity of St. Joseph, who, not finding 
room in the chapel, were gathered about the door. 
In the momentary look Belle gave, she saw that he 
did not appear to advantage, in spite of his grace- 
ful poise and physical beauty; for the empty and 
scornful expression on his face contrasted unfavor- 


A VILLAGE FETE. 


121 


ably with the stolid but sincere devotion depicted 
on the somewhat uncouth faces around him. 

The little red-robed acolytes swung their censers, 
and the priests began a simple service. Belle 
collected her wandering thoughts, and offered a 
sincere prayer for the weal of the inmates of Mont- 
faucon. During the short service the cure repeat- 
edly wiped his hot face with his red bandana, and 
then placed it with his snuff-box carefully by the 
side of the cushion on which he knelt. The ser- 
vice over, the procession formed at the chapel door, 
retiring in the same order in which it arrived. 
Belle returned to her station on the stone porch, to 
watch the people file out of the court-yard. 
She noticed that many of the better dressed young 
women wore silver medals hung round their necks 
on blue ribbons. Among the more respectable 
elderly women she recognized two old acquaintances, 
Marie- Joseph and Frangoise. Had she been near 
enough, she would have heard Marie-Joseph say to 
Frangoise : “ Look! he is not there with the oth- 

ers.” 

Old Frangoise started— stared vaguely in the di- 
rection in which her friend pointed, and went on 
with her beads. 

Marie-Joseph grumbled under her breath: a That 
Frangoise can think of but one thing at a time; if 
it’s not Felecien’s soup, it’s the bon Dieu .” How- 


122 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


ever, her friend’s one-idead piety recalled her to a 
sense of her own duty, so she caught up her beads 
with a jerk, and went on with her Pater Nosters 
and Ave Marias. Marie-Josepli’s sharp blue eyes 
had detected Monsieur Paul’s absence, and it was 
this information that she wished to impart to her 
less observing companion. 

When the old women with their rosaries, and the 
old men carrying wax tapers, who brought up 
the rear of the procession, had passed out, Belle still 
remained in the doorway, looking wistfully after 
the retreating figures. She had been much im- 
pressed by the honest good faith of the participat- 
ors in the ceremony; the little girls wlio bore the 
lilies, the young maidens who carried the Yirgin, 
the poor old women clasping their rosaries in their 
trembling fingers and mumbling their prayers with 
tearful eyes, — each and all appeared conscious that 
they were taking part in a solemn observance that 
was, in some vague way, to do them good. 

“ This is the only poetry in the lives of these 
poor people,” said Belle to herself. “ This is all 
they know above their daily toil. Those poor old 
women, for instance ! Any hope of earthly happi- 
ness, any aspirations, any dreams that are not com- 
prised in the stern necessity for bread, have been 
crushed out of them long years ago by hard work 
and rough usage, and alone la religion remains — 


A VILLAGE FETE. 


128 


la religion , with its occasional feasts, with incense, 
flowers, and lights, with its promises of a happier 
life beyond this weary toil, and perhaps added to 
this the idea of a good God in Heaven to whom 
they are something.’’ 

Belle’s reflections were interrupted by little 
Adele Masson, who gently pulled her dress and 
told her lunch was ready. 

Monsieur Paul made his appearance when lun- 
cheon was half over; he had been for a walk in the 
woods, he said. 

“ Which way did you go, Paul?” asked the Baron. 

“Towards Kononcourt’s, through the Ladies’ 
Wood.” 

“Did you see any game? Hononcourt told me 
that two fine roebucks had been seen near there.” 

“ Paul would not have seen them, unless he had 
stumbled over them,” said Madame Masson-Spier- 
ley. 

A laugh followed this sally, in which Monsieur 
Paul joined. 

“Hortense, you surpassed yourself in decorating 
the chapel to day ; that cross was simply lovely,” 
said the Baroness. 

“ Don’t praise me, Aunt de Henze, it was Mees 
Adams’s work.” 

“ We might have known that it was Mees’s charm- 
ing handiwork,” broke in Adolphe, gallantly. 


BELGIAN DAYS . 


m 


“lam sure Mees cares nothing for flattering 
speeches; do you, Mees ?” said Madame Masson- 
Spierley, spitefully, directing the attention of the 
whole table to Belle’s blushing face. 

Madame de Ileuze hastened to change the con- 
versation : 

“You had the pleasantest walk this morning, 
Paul. I hope Monsieur le cure will be none the 
worse for his hot walk in the sun.” 

“ He will be none the better, at all events,” an- 
swered Monsieur Paul. “What possible benefit, 
physical or moral, can any one hope to derive from 
parading about with images.” 

Madame Paul looked distressed, and the Bar- 
oness perceived when too late that her well-meant 
effort to save Belle was likely to bring disquiet into 
another quarter. She knew, however, by long ex- 
perience, that the only means of silencing Monsieur 
Paul was to give him a truthful and direct answer. 
“ My dear Paul,” she said, “ to the simple people 
by whom I am surrounded, the ceremonies of the 
church mean la religion , and were I to neglect the 
outward observances, my tenants would think me 
indifferent to religion itself, which I am far from 
being.” 

“If you do not wholly believe in a thing, you 
should have nothing to do with it,” said Monsieur 
Paul. 


A VILLAGE FETE. 


125 


“That’s too hard a doctrine for us poor mortals 
to follow; our lives are made up of prudent com- 
promises,” answered the Baron, with a sigh that 
was a bit sentimental. 

“At all events it is a safe doctrine,” returned Paul 
Masson, dryly. 

“The processions are a mess of mummery and 
cretinisme * , invented by priests to brutalize the 
common people, and so is all religion,” broke in 
Adolphe Spierley. 

"When Monsieur Spierley lifted up his voice in 
behalf of the moral elevation of the working classes, 
was he thinking of a pretty blue-eyed girl with a 
light-hearted smile, whom he had first met honestly 
earning her bread and safely sheltered under her 
father’s roof, and who was now either dead in some 
wayside ditch or flaunting the streets of Brussels — 
thanks to him ? 

“ I think we had better drop the subject,” said 
the Baroness, with a flash of concentrated anger 
shining from her eyes, always a warning signal, to 
those who knew her well, that they were on danger- 
ous ground. Madame Masson -Spierley was about 
to chide Adolphe for his indiscreet speech, when 
Madame Paul exclaimed, almost in tears: “How 


*Cretinisme (idiotism) is a parody on the word ChrfsHan ! sme (Christian 
ity), very much in vogue among the Belgian students of the advanced 
school, and considered quite a “ happy thought” by them. 


126 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


can you say sueli things, Monsieur Spierley ! When 
I was in the convent, I carried the Sainte Vierge 
twice at the Assumption as a reward of merit, be- 
cause I had the most good marks.” 

A half smile stole over several faces. 

Madame Paul had borne her testimony, and now 
glanced timidly at her husband, fearing her sudden 
onset might have displeased him. He smiled at 
her kindly, and held out his hand, saying, “You 
were always a good child, Horten se, and you re- 
main so.” 

Madame Paul felt that the honors of the day 
were hers, for it implied strong approval when her 
husband offered his hand. Unlike most Belgians, 
Monsieur Paul was an undemonstrative man. 

“ You go to Paris in September, I believe, Mas- 
son?” asked the Baron, — and the conversation 
rolled off into other and less dangerous channels. 

Later in the day, Belle stood alone on the lawn, 
her eyes fixed on the sun-illumined tops of the 
dark pines on the opposite side of the lake. The 
Angelas was ringing, and the girl’s thoughts were 
soaring “to the kindred points of Home and 
Heaven.” Paul Masson came gently behind her. 
Pointing to the spire of the village church, visible 
from where they stood, he said quietly, “ What do 
you think, Miss Adams, of a church that claims 
that there is no salvation out of its pale?” 


A VILLAGE FETE. 


127 


“ The Kingdom of God is within you,” answered 
Belle, hardly breaking the train of her own reflec- 
tions. 

“ Or else it is nowhere for you,” said Monsieur 
Paul. Belle gave him a quick, earnest glance, 
which he answered with a smile; and from that 
moment Paul Masson’s mental attitude toward re- 
ligion ceased to puzzle or disturb her. 


CHAPTER IX. 

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 

One morning Belle was walking up and down a 
sheltered path that skirted one of the largest and 
prettiest of the miniature lakes which dotted the 
Montfaucon grounds. She had fled thither as to a 
refuge; for it was an old habit of hers to seek sol- 
itude when worried or troubled, and there to quiet 
herself by a mental process not unfamiliar to self- 
contained women. She hummed an old-fashioned 
hymn or repeated half aloud portions of some 
poem familiar to her from her childhood. The 
pines at Montfaucon often accompanied, with their 
sighing refrain — 

O kD 

“ God moves in a mysterious way,” 

or — 

“ When all thy mercies, 0 my God.” 

Sometimes her heart went with the words; but at 
others she repeated them almost mechanically. 
However it was, this exercise never failed to calm 
and soothe her. At such times Belle fancied her- 
self again surrounded by the atmosphere of truth, 
( 128 ) 


MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 


129 


purity, and single-hearted simplicity, in which her 
youth had been passed. Later in life her eyes would 
be opened to see some of the meaner traits which 
form apart of our poor human nature, that is more 
or less the same all the world over; but for the mo- 
ment, she was making her first sad discoveries con- 
cerning the baser part of our common humanity. 
Such knowledge is always somewhat of a crisis to 
a young soul; happy for it when it i.s a stranger, 
and not one of its own flesh and blood, that first 
teaches it to distrust ! When hitherto unsuspect- 
ed evil began to throw its first cold shadow over 
Belle’s heart, she turned for consolation to Beligion 
# and Nature. It was something like instinct that 
guided her; but could she have done better? 

Happy are those persons who, as care and anx- 
iety settle down upon them, and they feel that 
they have come under the weight of a yoke from 
which death alone can entirely free them — happy 
are they if they “love solitary communion with Na- 
ture — if at times they can lose themselves, their 
lives, their hopes, their plans and their fears, and 
drink in the sweet peace that Nature gives. When 
walking, perhaps in spring-time, through a wood, 
with no sound but the singing of birds in their 
ears, or the merry shout of a child at play, every 
leaf whispers to them; the blue heavens repeat to 
them; the flowers, the soft winds, the fair colors, all 
9 


130 


BELGIAN DAYS . 


join in one refrain, and chant in chorus: “ Cease 
from man, and look above thee.” 

The shady alley in which Belle was walking, 
though secluded, commanded a view of the court- 
yard. The sound of approaching wheels struck on 
her ear, and she saw an open barouche draw up be- 
fore the hall door. A young girl jumped lightly 
down, followed by an older woman in black. Belle 
waited to see them admitted, and then resumed her 
walk. 

On her way back to the house she met Louise, 
who ran to meet her, calling out: “ Oh, Mees, guess 
who has come? Oda Spierley and then she added, 
half slyly, “ the young lady whom my cousin 
Adolphe is going to marry.” Louise arrived, ail 
excitement, thinking she was about to impart a 
bit of sensational news, which Belle received, much 
to her disappointment, in the calmest manner. 
She had no great interest in Oda Spierley, beyond 
a vague idea that she should not like her, as she 
was a member of the Spierley family. 

However indifferent Belle was on the subject, Oda 
Spierley’s arrival was a god-send to several of the 
inmates of the chateau / to Madame de Henze, for 
one, who had plainly perceived Adolphe’s liking 
for Belle, and somewhat feared the fascination a 
handsome young man might exercise over a friend- 
less girl, and who trusted that Oda’s opportune 


MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 


131 


arrival would engage Adolphe’s attention in another 
quarter. Madame de Henze welcomed Oda with a 
more demonstrative cordiality than was usual with 
her, telling the young girl that she should make 
her her prisoner for a week at least. Oda explained 
that she was visiting some friends at their chateau 
of Bois les Dames , about eight miles distant. “I 
wished so much to see you, dear Madame,” she 
said, turning to Madame de Henze, with a bright, 
winsome smile, “ and I begged so hard, that Mad- 
ame de Kers sent me over this morning in the car- 
riage.” The ladies were gathered around Oda in 
the wide vestibule as she made her little speech, 
while her maid, a middle-aged Frenchwoman, with 
small black eyes and narrow white teeth, stood a 
little apart, holding her mistress’ wraps. 

“ It was so good of you to come, dear Oda,” said 
the Baroness; “ you shall have your old room in the 
chapel wing; the small dressing-room attached will 
do nicely for your maid.” So speaking, she pre- 
ceded her guest up the broad staircase. Madame 
Masson-Spierley followed; she also was delighted 
at Oda’s arrival, and disposed to make much of 
her. 

“ Ma chere” she said, “you will find company 
here that you did not expect.” 

“ Who is it?” asked Oda, with interest. 

“ Who but Adolphe? ” answered Madame Masson, 


132 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


beaming on the young girl. “ I believe lie had a 
presentiment that you were coming. Does a little 
bird fly between you?” continued the lady, archly. 

Oda colored scarlet, and though she returned a 
laughing answer, a cloud settled on her brow. See- 
ing that Madame Masson had established herself in 
an arm-chair in her niece’s new quarters, the Bar- 
oness left them, after saying another kind word of 
welcome to Oda. 

“ I am so glad, cherie , that you have come,” be- 
gan Madame Masson. “ We have all thought of 
you so often; and as I am here, vour own aunt, 
there can be no reason why you should not remain 
in the same house with Adolphe, for you will have 
me for chaperon.” 

“But, aunt, I am not engaged to Adolphe; he 
has never asked me to marry him, so there is no 
more reason why I should not remain in the same 
house with him than with any other man.” 

“ You know, dear child, what our wishes are, and 
what your dear mother’s wish is.” 

Oda made no reply. 

“ How is your dear mother? ” continued Madame 
Masson, changing the subject. 

“Much the same,” answered Oda. “Some- 
times I fear,” she added, her eyes filling with tears, 
“ that she will never be better. She would not 
allow me to remain all summer at Nessonvaux, so 


MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 


133 


Uncle Charles brought me to Bois les Dames to 
spend two weeks there; and I persuaded Madame 
de Kers to send me over in the carriage this morn- 
ing; but had I known,” she continued, in a straight- 
forward tone, “ that Adolphe was here, I would not 
have come.” 

Madame Masson, who could show tact when it 
suited her, allowed this speech to pass unnoticed, 
and betook herself to admiring Oda’s really beau- 
tiful toilette. 

Oda’s father had been dead about five years. 
While still a young man, he had married a lady 
who brought him a very large fortune; one child, 
Oda, was born to them. Madame Spierley, who 
had been for years an invalid, never recovered 
from the shock of her husband’s death, for they 
had been devotedly attached to each other. Mon- 
sieur Spierley was cut off in the prime of life and 
at the height of his usefulness. He was a distin- 
guished member of the legal profession, and one 
of the great leaders of the Liberal movement now 
agitating Belgium; he had given himself, heart 
and soul, to the cause, and firmly thought to see in 
the final triumph of those principles the salvation 
of his country and the panacea for all the moral 
ills that afflict society. On his death-bed, he 
asked his wife to promise that their child should 
be sent to no convent, for he did not approve of a 


134 


BELGIAN DAYS . 


system of education that inculcated Tidbits of piety 
while it inflamed the imagination and left the mind 
empty. Madame Spierlev gladly gave this prom- 
ise, as she shared her husband’s opinions, and after 
his death she left her pleasant home at Nesson- 
vaux and established herself in apartments in Brus- 
sels, in order that Oda might become a day-scholar 

in Mademoiselle de G ’s school. After two 

year’s residence in Brussels, her physicians told 
Madame Spierley that she must return to the 
country to live, if she valued her life. Unwilling 
to interrupt her daughter’s studies, she placed her 

as a boarder at Mademoiselle de G ’s, and after 

parting with her idolized child, returned to her 
now solitary home. Oda was a good student, hav- 
ing inherited her father’s intellect; she was fond 
of mathematics, book-keeping, and chemistry; and 
besides these more serious tastes, she was a correct 
and skillful musician, and a fairy at all kinds of 
needlework. 

As to her personal appearance, without being a 
beauty she was very nice looking, and now, in the 
first flush of youth and health, might be called 
pretty. She was rather above middle height, with 
a small face, a fresh complexion, black eyes and 
black hair; her mouth was small and her chin 
square, but these indications of hardness were soft- 
ened by a pretty dimple that nestled in one cheek, 


MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 


135 


and also by a trick her eyes had of laughing with 
her lips; her face, even when she smiled, was rather 
good-tempered than tender. 

Belle watched the new comer with interest blend- 
ed with admiration, and yet felt vaguely a lack of 
something to make her altogether lovable. It 
was not that Oda was what is vulgarly called 
strong-minded — no Belgian girl could be that; she 
never paraded her learning; her manners were per- 
fect with older people, her blush was ready and 
ingenuous, and she was neither obtuse nor obtrusive. 
What was the subtle charm needed to give grace to 
the character of this young girl? Why was it that 
her eyes followed you with a certain hard look, 
and that her judgment had a large share of the 
harshness of inexperience and untried virtue, un- 
tempered by the charity that hopetli all tilings? 
Such as Oda was, she was an entirely original type 
of jeune fille to Belle, who studied her looks, 
words, and ways, with avidity. 

Great court was paid to Mademoiselle Oda. 
Madame Masson-Spierley was all attention to her 
niece. Monsieur offered her his heavy gallantries; 
he picked out the finest fruit for her at table, and 
whispered in her ear the broadest jokes he dared 
venture on. Madame Paul w r as timidly kind, but 
somewhat in awe of this learned young lady who 
had studied chemistry, etc. Monsieur Paul was 


136 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


true to his first love; for Oda, in spite of her lib- 
eral education, was not half so much, after his own 
heart as Belle. 

“ Ilow will Adolphe behave himself ? ” was the 
query from all sides. 

lie was all devotion to his belle cousine / he sang 
with her, Madame Masson sitting by and loudly 
applauding both performers; he took her side in 
croquet or lawn-tennis; every evening he brought 
the most beautiful roses he could find for her hair 
or her dress; in fact, for a few days his conduct 
gave unlimited satisfaction to his friends. A 
double motive prompted him to this line of behav- 
ior, neither side of which had anything to do with 
Oda : he wished to throw his aunt “ off the scent,” 
a3 he expressed it, and he was endeavoring to make 
Belle jealous. He could not understand indiffer- 
ence to himself, neither could he comprehend inno- 
cence of heart; he fancied that Belle, understand- 
ing the kind of intrigue he wished to establish 
with her, was kept on her guard by prudence; he 
reasoned that if he could once make her jealous, 
she would cease to be so circumspect, and would fall 
an easy victim. 

Belle’s relations with Oda were rather cool than 
kind; the latter was completely without snobbish- 
ness, and would have been friendly with a ladylike 
girl, governess though she were; but Madame 


MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 


137 


Masson had poisoned her niece’s mind against 
Belle by describing her as a sly, intriguing person, 
who made eyes at gentlemen and was very deep. 
Oda, who was honesty itself and detested artfulness, 
naturally avoided a person described as possessing 
such unenviable qualities. Madame Masson did 
her best to keep Belle in the background, by fully 
occupying her time; now it was a letter to be trans- 
lated into English for Monsieur Masson; now a 
copy to be set for Louise, or an hour’s reading with 
Gustave. Suddenly she made the discovery that 
the children were “ running wild,” and begged 
Mees to occupy their mornings with German and 
English. 

Neither Gustave nor Louise relished this new 
order of things, and they vented their wrath on the 
governess. Madame troubled herself but little, 
however, concerning the stormy scenes poor Belle 
had to endure, but was satisfied when she saw Oda 
and Adolphe bending over the same music or 
amusing themselves at croquet or lawn-tennis. It 
was gucli a new experience to Belle to be neglected, 
that she had to stifle many a heart-ache as she sat 
with her unruly scholars, hearing, through the open 
windows, merry voices and gay laughter from all 
parts of the garden. 

One morning Madame Paul met Belle as she was 
leaving the school-room after her duties were fin- 
ished, and was startled by the girl’s pallor. 


138 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“ Are you ill, Mees? ” she asked kindly, laying her 
soft, warm hands on Belle’s cold ones. 

“ I am tired,” answered Belle with a weary sigh. 

“ Come with me into my room,” said, Madame 
Paul, leading the young girl into her bright little 
boudoir; there she pushed her gently into the 
most comfortable chair and poured her out a glass 
of port wine, saying with heartfelt solicitude, 
“Here, child, drink this; it will do you good.” 

With the mother’s pitiful instinct for pain or 
suffering, so strong in her kindly nature, Madame 
Paul stroked Belle’s hair, patted her cheek, kissed 
her forehead, and bestowed on her the caresses she 
gave her little ones to make them forget their child- 
ish griefs. She asked no questions, nor did Belle 
seek to solace herself by any complaints, though 
her heavy heart was comforted by the sweet human 
sympathy. The look that came over Belle’s face as 
they sat by the river the day she told her about 
Adolphe, came to Madame Paul’s remembrance, 
and caused her a certain uneasiness; but of this 
she said nothing to any one. Madame Paul’s men- 
tal horizon was limited; but such was the kindness 
of her heart and her instinctive delicacy, that she 
had never been known to repeat what might harm 
another. She contented herself with telling Ma- 
dame de Ileuze that she thought the Masson chil- 
dren were almost too much for Belie, and that 
u Mees” was looking very pale. 


MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING . 


139 


That afternoon, the Baroness called Belle to her 
aud asked if she would do her a little favor. The 
ladies were standing just inside the front door, and 
neither of them saw Adolphe sitting on the porch. 

“ Will you take this box of bon-bons to old Feli- 
cien’s cottage for me? Do you think you can find 
the way? I am too busy to go to-day, and it flat- 
ters him when one of the gentry visits him.” 

Belle w r as delighted, and went at once to get her 
hat. She slipped away by the iron gateway that 
formed the exit from the Montfaucon grounds to- 
ward the village. 

Belle’s heart gave a bound when she found her- 
self on the soft green sward outside the chateau 
grounds. 

She turned up a narrow grass-grown lane, lined 
on either side by a quickset hedge that led to the 
village by a cross-cut. The ascent was much less 
steep than by the road, and it was so pleasant walk- 
ing on the soft grass that Belle made up her mind 
to return the same way. She easily found Feli- 
cien’s house, gave the pleased old man his comfits 
with a civil little speech, and then set out on her 
return home. To prolong her hour of liberty, 
when she reached the top of the shady lane before 
mentioned, she sat down for a few moments- on a 
moss-covered stone. The sky was overcast, and a 
rustling in the tree-tops told of rain; yet Belle still 


140 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


kept her seat, thinking, thinking, thinking. Had 
she been right to come abroad? Had she not 
been over-hasty in taking a governess’ situation ? 

The sound of voices on the other side of the 
hedge, quite near, broke into her reverie. It was 
the quick, decided tone of a woman’s voice that 
first struck her ear: 

“ What bee has stung thee, Pierre Mouton, that 
thou art minded to send thy girls to the infidel 
school at Avernnes?” 

The man’s answer was inaudible. After a short 
pause, the woman spoke again, and her voice 
sounded familiar to Belle, who fell to wondering 
where she had heard it before. “ Thou wishest 
thy girls to have a good education, sayest thou? 
What good will book learning do them ? Dost 
thou not know, at thy time of life, that it is not 
what a woman has in her head that keeps her 
straight, but what she does with her hands? Show 
me a good spinner, and I’ll show thee an honest 
girl.” 

There was no mistaking the speaker this time; it 
was Marie- Joseph. Pierre Mouton must have shift- 
ed his argument by making a feeble attempt to jus- 
tify himself, on the ground that the new Liberal 
schools were not really godless, which assertion, 
far from calming Marie- Joseph, raised her indigna- 
tion to the highest pitch. “ Hot godless, indeed! ” 


MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 


141 


did lie not hear Monsieur le cure say last Sunday 
that all parents who send their children to such 
wicked places would go straight to hell when they 
died? For her part, she should think that a man 
who had been looked up to in the parish all his 
life would have some ambition to end respectably. 

Poor Pierre Mouton was being hard pushed by his 
old neighbor. A widow r er of many years standing, 
he and his girls were indebted to her kind heart 
and skillful fingers for many a little comfort. He 
shuffled off in the direction of the lane where Belle 
was sitting, and she heard him say as he went that 
he would think the matter over again, which con- 
cession procured him a civil “ Good day, neighbor,’’ 
from his late adversary. 

Belle rose to retrace her steps; her thoughts 
turned from her own troubles by the conversation 
which she had just overheard, so little personal in 
its nature that she allowed herself to play the 
eavesdropper’s part without scruple. She was 
sauntering down the lane, still in no hurry to reach 
home, when she heard her name called, and turn- 
ing, saw Adolphe advancing toward her with rapid 
strides. Belle’s little outing had done her good by 
raising her spirits, and she welcomed Adolphe with 
a cheerful alacrity which greatly elated that young 
gentleman. lie was on his best behavior, not 
attempting pretty speeches, but carrying on a gen- 


142 


. BELGIAN DAYS. 


eral conversation in a tone of gentle kindness that 
answered him far better. When they arrived in 
sight of the chateau gate, Adolphe said in a signif- 
icant tone, “I will leave you now” Belle, not 
catching his meaning in her simplicity, nodded and 
smiled. Adolphe, emboldened, seized her hand and 
pressed it to his lips. The girl drew her hand 
hastily away, exclaiming in a tone of blended an- 
noyance and astonishment, “ Why, Monsieur Spier- 
ley!” Before she could add more, he was gone, 
and Belle entered the Montfaucon grounds alone, 
mentally resolving to avoid Adolphe Spierley on 
all occasions for the future. 

Had Belle’s walk ended pleasantly, she would 
without doubt have mentioned to Madame de Henze 
or to Madame Paul that she had met Adolphe; but 
she had a theory that the least said about unpleas- 
ant matters the better, so did not speak of what 
she fancied to be an accidental encounter. 

Though Belle was silent, another person was not. 
Leopold ine, Oda’s maid, waylaid Madame Masson- 
Spierley, and asked permission to tell her some- 
thing important. Madame, never averse to a word 
of gossip with a servant, called the girl into her 
room, where Leopoldine, with great pretended re- 
luctance, related the following tale: “I would not 
have spoken to any one except to a discreet lady 
like Madame for the world,” the woman said, be- 


MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 


143 


ginning to sniffle, “ but I have Mademoiselle’s in- 
terests so at heart that I can not hold my tongue. 
I have been told that my young lad}^ was about to 
become engaged to Monsieur Spierley — such a 
handsome young gentleman! I feel it my duty to 
tell Madame that I saw Monsieur Spierley making 
love to Mademoiselle la governante this very after- 
noon.” 

“ What did you see?” demanded Madame, in 
great excitement. 

“ I saw him embrace Mademoiselle near the 
iron gate; he walked with her from the village 
through the lane — not by the road, for I followed 
them,” explained Leopoldine; “then Monsieur 
went to the front gate, and Mademoiselle went in by 
the iron gate, as though she returned alone.” 

“Here ’s a fine business!” cried Madame; but 
underneath all her annoyance lay a feeling of no 
slight satisfaction in the accuracy with which she 
had judged the sly little American. “ Here are 
five francs for you,” said Madame, handing the 
money to the woman; “you are an honest girl, 
and if you see anything more you must come and 
report it to me. On Monsieur Spierley’s account, 
you must be silent on this matter, for young men 
are often imprudent when girls are wicked enough 
to lead them on.” 

Leopoldine protested her disinterestedness, but 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


144 


ended by slipping the five francs into her pocket, 
wishing that she might earn five more as easily. 

Madame was late for dinner, a very unusual oc- 
currence, and when at last she entered the dining- 
room, she made her excuses in a voice that trembled 
with inward excitement, while her cheeks were 
scarlet. 

Madame de Ileuze glanced at Monsieur Masson, 
who was placidly gobbling his soup. “My cousin 
has not been quarreling with him, at all events,” 
was her mental comment. 

After dinner, the Baroness invited Belle to walk 
in the garden ; and they commenced one of those 
confidential talks that twilight is certain to en- 
courage between people who have any sympathy 
for each other. 

They spoke of their youth, and how strong are 
the impressions and prejudices of that age, and 
how they follow a person through all time. Like 
most reserved people, when the Baroness was in a 
communicative mood, which was only at the rarest 
intervals and with few people, she spoke verv 
freely. “ My mother,” said she, “ more than any 
other being, influenced my life, and she still does 
so, though it is now more than ten years since I 
lost her. She was one of the most patient, one of 
the loveliest of women; but even her beauty, which 
was great before sorrow and ill health had faded it, 


MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 


145 


failed to retain my father’s heart. lie was a hand- 
some man, well bred and amiable, but not constant 
by nature, and, unfortunately, women found him 
most attractive. My father died when I was not 
more than twenty years old, leaving us with but 
little money. As far as I know, my mother never 
breathed a word of her marriage sorrows to any 
human being; but her long troubles broke her 
health, and years before my father died she was 
confined for the greater part of each day to her 
sofa.” 

“What a sad life, dear Madame!” said Belle, 
sympathetically, as the Baroness paused a moment. 

“ Yes, unutterably sad. After my father’s death 
my mother and I took up our abode in an Ursurline 
Convent, near Brussels. After sojourning there for 
four years, she died, at peace at last. A few 
months before her death, her physicians advised 
her to try the climate of Nice for a winter, but she 
would not. ‘ It can make but little difference now, 
my child,’ said she to me, 4 and why should I 
spend the greater part of your small portion to 
remain, at the best, but a few months longer with 
you?’ My sweet mother loved me dearly; but 
the desire of life was dead within her — I felt that. 
It is from her,” continued Madame de Heuze, 
“ that I have inherited my somewhat melancholy 
disposition, and my low estimate of men — I mean 
10 


BELGIAN DAYS . 


146 


as to their power of resisting certain temptations. 
When I became of an age to guess at the sorrow 
tliat was sapping my dear mother’s life, she often 
said to me: i Les hommes sont faibles, ma file, 
fort faibles; il ne faut pas les jug er I ” 

“ I could not have been so patient,” remarked 
Belle, decidedly. “ I should have left him.” 

“ And would you have dishonored your only 
child?” 

“ You tell me that it broke your mother’s heart 
and finally killed lie.-; self-preservation is the first 
law of life.” 

“ There are things more important than life it- 
self,” returned the Baroness gravely. 

“ But,” resumed Belle, proudly, “ I think it is 
below the dignity of a woman to submit to such 
treatment. I think she lowers her womanhood by 
so doing.” 

The Baroness smiled a half-sad smile at the girl’s 
enthusiastic vindication of a woman’s rights. 

“ My dear child,” she said, “ you are young, in- 
experienced, and generous, but mistaken. A mar- 
ried woman has a serious duty to society to perform; 
and if she has children, she must die at her post 
sooner than desert it.” 

“ But has a married man no obligations, Ma- 
dame? ” 

“ Undoubtedly he has— all right-thinking people 


MUCH ABO ABOUT NOTHING. 


147 


condemn an unfaithful lmsband; but none the less 
should a wife hide her husband’s faults from the 
world, so that the reputation and social position of 
her children may not suffer by them.” 

Belle could not repress a smile, as she answered, 
“ I think marriage a very one-sided affair under 
those conditions.” 

“ Marriage is a one-sided affair,” answered the 
Baroness gravely. “The wife is the weaker vessel, 
fn Catholic countries women are divided into two 
categories — those who give themselves to God, and 
those who live in the world as married women. Of 
old maids, it is unnecessary to speak — their num- 
ber is very small and they are mere cyphers in 
society. You see, then, that a man must give a 
woman the protection of his name and roof before 
she can take her right position in the world. It 
becomes his duty to defend her reputation and 
provide for her wants; while she, in her turn, must 
minister to her husband’s comfort, retain his re- 
spect, his love, if she can. In nine cases out of 
ten an adroite woman will succeed in retaining 
her husband’s affections.” 

“Oh, Madame,” laughed Belle, “what a fine 
thine it would be for societv if all women were 

O " 

born adroite /” 

“Would you like to know,” said Madame de 
Ileuze, not. heeding Belle’s remark, “ what advice we 


143 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


give to young women in this country ? how, at all 
events, I should talk to my own daughters, if Iliad 
any ? A married woman should be, above all 
things, pleasant tempered; she should never fret 
her husband with trifling anxieties; all the tire- 
some petty machinery of daily domestic life should 
be kept out of sight of the master of the house; 
he should never be importuned with his wife’s 
worries with her children or hei servants; neither 
should the little ones be allowed to cry or fret be- 
fore their father, for that annoys a man and makes 
him weary of his home. A wife should consult 
her husband on all subjects important enough to 
need his advice, or pleasant enough to serve as oc- 
casions for agreeable intercourse; but for the rest, 
had better depend only on her own unaided judg- 
ment. A little reserve in manner, without stiff- 
ness, sets well even on a married woman. A 
woman who observes .these rules will be certain to 
retain great influence over her husband; and if he 
does not appreciate her as he ought, she will at 
least have the consolation of having done her 
whole duty.” 

It was not within the range of possibility that 
such an exposition of the marriage relationship 
should have been received without protest by an 
American girl, though Belle did not fail to see 
many good points in the Baroness’ short sermon. 


MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 


149 


“ But, dear Madame,” she expostulated, “what 
is to become of the mutual support that one is to 
have of the other? If a woman is to remain silent 
on all her cares and anxieties, to be consistent, a man 
must not trouble his wife with his business worries. 
I, for instance, should make a poor slave to fetch 
and carry for my lord and master, and smile before 
him were I happy or sad, for I would not like to 
treat him like a spoilt child or a tyrant; but I 
should wish to share all my husband’s anxieties, 
and prove to him that I could be as happy with 
him in adversity as in prosperity.” 

“ Business calamities are rare events; household 
worries, every-day ones. Some people pass their 
lives together without experiencing the rubs of 
adverse fortune, like my cousin Masson and his 
wife, for example. My husband is in politics, and 
has his disappointments and vexations like other 
political men. I can not change the ministry for 
him, or give him a majority in the Chambre / but 
I can make his home bright and happy when he 
returns to it tired and harassed; I can receive him 
with a smile, and gather pleasant people about 
him, so that he forgets his vexations at home and 
gains strength there for fresh exertions.” 

“That is delightful, of course; but who is to do 
the same for the wife? Who is to smooth from her 
brow and heart the wear and tear of the day?” 


150 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


6C Ah,” answered the Baroness, with a sigh, “ a 
woman must be satisfied if her husband doe's not 
cause her du chagrin / as to studying her face and 
the tones of her voice to know if she is happy or 
unhappy — such cherishing is not in a man’s na- 
ture.” 

Belle made no reply, and the Baroness con- 
tinued in a lighter tone, “I see that you are a true 
American — more mindful of a woman’s rights 
than of her duties. I should never advise you to 
marry a foreigner, for, good and charming as you 
are, you would fail to make him happy and he 
would surprise and shock you.” 

“I should never think of such a thing,” replied 
Belle, rather bluntly. 

The Baroness was about to speak again, when a 
slight rustling in a cluster of rose bushes attracted 
her attention ; she put her hand on Belle’s arm to 
enjoin silence. They stood still a moment; a head 
was thrust cautiously forward from behind a bush. 

“What is it?” whispered Belle, half fearfully. 

“Sh ,” said the Baroness; and then she asked 

in her clear, authoritative voice, “Are you looking 
for anything, Mademoiselle?” 

A moment’s silence, and then a glib, high voice 
answered, “I missed Mademoiselle Oda’s parasol 
and I thought she might have left it in the shrub- 
bery. Mademoiselle sent me to look for it, fearing 


MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 


151 


it might rain.” So speaking, Mademoiselle Leo- 
poldine glided away. 

“It is time to go in,” said the Baroness; but 
she made no other comment, and taking Belle’s 
arm they entered the drawing-room together. 

“Where have you been, Pauline?” inquired 
Madame Masson -Spierley. 

“ Mees and I have been walking together ever 
since dinner. Oda,” continued the baroness, “where 
is that pretty light parasol you carried to-day in 
the garden? I wish to show it to Hortense.” 

“ It is in my room,” answered the young girl, 
readily. “ Shall I fetch it?” and Oda rose. 

“ No, chere amie ; to-morrow will do as well.” 

Oda reseated herself at her embroidery -frame. 

“What could that woman have been after?” 
thought Madame de Heuze to herself, 


CHAPTER X. 

THE VAGARIES OF A BAT. 

Belle’s long and, to her, interesting conversation 
with Madame de Henze, related in the last chapter, 
all but banished from her mind the disagreeable 
episode of the afternoon; for it is not always on the 
most innocent minded women that a small indis- 
cretion makes the deepest impression. 

Madame Masson changed her tactics a little, and 
ceased to watch Belle. She thought she was now 
on the right track, and by allowing matters to take 
their own course, and not exciting the girl’s sus- 
picion, she trusted that her young governess would 
eventually place herself in some compromising 
position that would plainly show to all that Madame 
had been right from the beginning, and would en- 
able her to dismiss Belle from her employ by gen- 
eral consent. 

Madame had now a positive dislike to Belle, in 
great measure because she fancied that other people 
resented her treatment of the young stranger. 
More than this: had Belle gone to Madame and 
( 152 ) 


THE VAGARIES OF A BAT. 


153 


confided in her, asking her advice, though she 
would have neither respected the confidence nor 
given disinterested advice, still she would have felt 
kindlier toward the girl; as it was, however, her 
feelings were very bitter against V Americaine. 

A slight change came over Oda Spierley after a 
few days’ stay at Montfaucon; she was absent- 
minded at times, and avoided Adolphe, who in 
his turn ceased to pay the same assiduous court to 
his cousin. Oda kept as much as possible with the 
other ladies, even once or twice inviting Belle to 
join her on a walk, thus avoiding a tete-a-tete with 
Adolphe. 

Madame Masson accounted for the change in 
Oda’s conduct by surmising that Leopoldine had 
repeated to her young mistress the same tale that 
she had told her. 

The Baroness had a different theory; she fancied 
Madame Masson had acquainted her niece with the 
gossip about Belle. 

Both ladies were accordingly surprised at Oda’s 
friendly overtures to Belle. 

“ I wish young Spierley would go,” said the 
Baroness to her husband one morning. “ He has 
taken one of his violent fancies for Mees Adams, and 
the situation is becoming unpleasant, for he makes no 
attempt to hide his preference, and I fear Oda has 
noticed it. She returns to Madame de Kers on 


154 : 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


Saturday; if Adolphe does not change his behavior 
I shall not urge her remaining; it would do more 
harm than good.” 

“ Do as you think best, my dear,” answered the 
Baron, shrugging his shoulders. “ Pauline,” lie 
continued, as a bright idea struck him, “let us 
have a pic-nic of some kind; it will amuse our 
guests, and help clear the atmosphere. An excur- 
sion is an excellent opportunity for love-making; 
Adolphe and Oda may become engaged, and then 
all will be right.” 

The Baron paused a moment before adding in 
a lower and graver tone: 

“ Not that I consider Adolphe a good match for 
Oda; she is a very nice girl, and he will be his 
uncle Masson over again, without his uncle’s good 
nature. But that they are own cousins, little Lou- 
ise Masson would be a deal fitter mate for him. 
Poor old Masson was never an Adonis, at his best, 
so he never received the spoiling Adolphe gets, 
who thinks now that the earth was created for his 
especial benefit; and those kind of men always end 
by becoming absolutely cruel.” 

“ Oda does not appear to me like a girl who 
would bear much trifling with. At present, natur- 
ally enough, being so young, she does not assert 
herself, but when she is older she will have a will 
of iron,” said Madame de Heuze. 


THE VAGARIES OF A BAT. 


155 


44 She has been educated in such Liberal ideas 
that she would be certain to go in for divorce, or 
something extraordinary of that kind, if she were 
unhappily married,” returned the Baron. 44 The 
other day Masson remarked, with his usual origi- 
nality, 4 You know no one is infallible;’ 4 Always 
excepting our saint Pere , uncle Masson,’ said Oda, 
with such a quizzical face that Masson broke out 
into one of his boisterous laughs. When she came 
in from Low Mass last Sunday, I said to her: 4 So, 
young lady, this is the way you perform your re- 
ligious duties; why do you not go to High Mass 
with Hortense and my wife?’ 4 Monsieur le Bar- 
on ’ she answered, sweeping me such a saucy little 
courtesy, 4 no one shall accuse me this morning of 
not being a good Catholic. 1 have just accom- 
plished two of our principal religious obligations — 
attending Mass and penance. I come from Church 
where I heard a sermon by Monsieur le cure on the 
sevenfold graces of the Saint Sacrement .’ I could 
not help laughing; fortunately poor Hortense was 
not there.” 

The Baroness looked grave. 44 Cher ami, I do 
not like to hear a young girl speak lightly of 
sacred things. It is bad enough that we have to 
hear so much of it from our young men, but a 
woman should never permit herself any free-think- 
ing remarks; it is in bad style, to say the least.” 


156 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“ Well, liow about the excursion, Pauline — will 
you arrange it? ” 

“ Suppose we make up a party to visit the Grotte 
de Han / we have not been there for over two years, 
and they say the company have made wonderful 
alterations; though I doubt their being able to im- 
prove on nature’s handiwork. Mees Adams must 
go; I should like to have her carry home a good 
impression of our dear Belgium.” 

“If she judges us all by the Massons, it’s too 
late for that,” laughed the Baron. 

“ She ’s too fair-minded not to recognize goodness 
wherever she sees it,” answered his wife, defending 
her protegee. 

“ Even in a Belgian Baroness?” said her hus- 
band, with an arch smile. His wife put her hand 
to his lips with a pretty imploring gesture, and he 
kissed the fair member with a lover’s fondness. 
The Baroness, at least, had succeeded in fulfilling 
her mission in life and retaining her husband’s 
alfection. 

An excursion was arranged for the next day, 
wind and weather permitting. Ilan being a ten 
miles’ drive, the weather was a great consideration. 
They were to start immediately after breakfast, as 
it was a long day’s work — the drive there and back 
and the three or four hours of walking necessary to 
see the immense grotto. All the guests were to 


THE VAGARIES OF A BAT. 


157 


go, except Madame Paul. Belle, Gustave and 
Louise were to be of the company. 

By nine o’clock the following morning the whole 
party were gathered on the perron waiting for the 
carriages. 

“ You must each take a warm wrap to wear in 
the. grotto on account pf the dampness,” said the 
Baroness. u What have you, Oda? ” 

“ My water-proof, Madame,” cried Oda, holding 
up that garment. “ Is it cold in the grotto? ” 

“ Kot precisely cold, but very fresh, and the cool 
air is apt to give one a chill after driving in a ho-t 
sun; so we must go prepared.” 

“I hope it is not a very dark cavern,” said Oda. 

“ It is in some places, but our guides will have 
torches, so it will be quite safe. The vaults 
through which the river passes are comparatively 
light, and then, many of the stalactites are white 
and luminous,” answered the Baron. 

The Baroness, Madame Masson, Oda and Adolphe 
went in the first carriage; Monsieur Masson, Mon- 
sieur Paul, Belle and Louise occupied the second, 
while Gustave mounted on the box. The Baron 
rode on horseback. 

“ It is a very wonderful sight, is it not?” asked 
Belle of Monsieur Paul, who was opposite to her 
in the carriage. 

“ Yes,” he answered. u It is the most wonderful 


158 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


natural curiosity in the country. Originally formed 
by the action of water, the caverns are all vaulted, 
and a river runs through them, the Lesse, now a 
mere streamlet, but doubtless the remains of the 
primeval torrent that once swept all before it. The 
company who purchased the grotto from its origi- 
nal proprietor have spent immense sums in arrang- 
ing it to make it more effective, as they consider, 
though for my part I preferred it in its natural 
state. Some of the caverns have now a fixed- up 
appearance, and remind one of the witches’ caves 
seen on the stage. I dare say you will find it all 
the finer for the dressing-up; that is what ladies 
admire, I believe.” 

“ I do not much like the prospect of spending 
three or four hours underground. Suppose the 
earth should cave in? ” said Belle. 

“There is not much danger that the rocks at 
Han will cave in,” answered Monsieur Paul, witl^i 
smile. “Nothing short of an earthquake could 
disturb them.” 

“Pshaw! it is all right,” chimed in Monsieur 
Masson. “You keep near me, and I’ll protect 
yon.” 

Monsieur Masson, who was by no means a brave 
man, did not hesitate to offer life protection against 
the elements themselves. 

“There is really no danger, Mees Adams,” re- 


THE VAGARIES OF A BAT. 


159 


turned Monsieur Paul, with a smile. “ We shall 
have guides; and even if one of our party should 
get separated from the rest, all he would have to 
do would be to follow the main galleries, not to 
turn into the side ones, and he would find his way 
out all right.” 

“ How is one to distinguish the main galleries 
from the side ones?” asked Belle. 

“The main galleries are high, wide, and form a 
continuous chain, while the side ones are low and 
narrow,” answered Monsieur Paul. 

“ There ’s even a well-kept refreshment room not 
far from the entrance,” interrupted Monsieur Mas- 
son. 

“ That’s a good thing! ” exclaimed Louise. 

“Yes, and they have very good things to eat 
there, Mademoiselle Loulou,” said Monsieur Paul, 
good-naturedly. 

“ Papa,” called Gustave from the box, “ be sure 
and ask the guides to fire off a cannon as we are 
coming out of the grotto in the boat. Jacques 
says that it makes a noise louder than thunder.” 

“ All right,” assented easy Monsieur Masson, who 
was always willing to accede to any request of the 
children’s that did not interfere with his comfort. 
So the occupants of the second carriage were car- 
ried smoothly along over the good, hard govern- 
ment road, at peace with themselves and the world 


160 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


A like harmony did not reign among the occu- 
pants of the first carriage. Adolphe had hoped to 
drive in the same carriage with Belle, and had ar- 
ranged his plans in accordance, but 

“ The best-laid schemes o’ mice and men 
Gang aft agley;” 

and so it was in this case. At the last moment, 
Madame Masson discovered that it was absolutely 
necessary that Louise and her governess should 
be in the same carriage, so Adolphe was requested, 
in a manner that admitted of no refusal, to 
resign his seat in favor of his young cousin. 
This change of programme was most acceptable to 
Belle. Not so, Adolphe; he was furious, and took 
no pains to conceal his displeasure. He hardly 
spoke a word during the whole drive. He sat 
twirling the ends of his mustache and glaring sav- 
agely at his aunt. The presence of one hopelessly 
sulky person in a party of four was not conducive 
to cheerfulness, to say the least of it. 

“A fine idea Oda will have of his temper,” 
thought Madame Masson, almost in despair. She 
had made one or two conciliatory speeches to her 
handsome nephew, but finding that she only brought 
rude replies upon herself, she desisted, and general 
conversation flagged, notwithstanding the Baroness’ 
unfailing efforts to make things pleasant. The 
Baron rode up occasionally and made a cheery 


THE V AG ABIES OF A BAT. 


161 


remark; but they were all relieved when they 
arrived at their destination. 

“ I believe that Americaine has bewitched 
Adolphe. I never saw him behave so before; and 
Oda there, too — he must be demented,” said Madame 
Masson sotto voce to the Baroness. 

Madame de Heuze had known the handsome 
Adolphe on several occasions to behave in much 
the same way, but she sympathized with poor 
Madame Masson’s well justified annoyance, and 
kept silence. 

Belle trembled and turned pale as they entered 
the grotto. It was really an imposing and awe- 
inspiring sight. 

“ Take my arm,” said kind Monsieur Paul. Where 
people he was fond of were concerned, he noticed 
details that escaped many a more observing man. 

Belle accepted his proffered assistance; and, her 
eyes becoming accustomed to the half obscurity, 
looked around her with interest. They passed 
through large vaulted chambers, festooned with 
shining white stalactites, and lighted by the reflec- 
tion from the clear little stream that ran through 
them, traversing sometimes the center of the cav- 
ern, while in others it ran along the sides, break- 
ing the solemn stillness of these subterranean vaults ' 
by its sullen murmur. 

The party halted in the refreshment room for a 

11 


162 


BELGIAN BAYS. 


luncli and a half hour’s rest. Belle, who was very 
tired, was the last to leave her seat, and then she 
followed slowly behind the others. She felt nerv- 
ous; having been worried and unhappy for some 
time past, she lacked her usual strength; — the con- 
fined air, the chill, the mere sensation of being 
underground, oppressed her, and rendered her un- 
fit for the exertion of a long walk. 

Adolphe was behind her, but she did not perceive 
him. They were crossing a long dark gallery be- 
tween two salles , or chambers, when suddenly 
something cold and damp dashed into Belle’s face 
with a whir-rr-rr. She gave a cry, and turned to 
run in the opposite direction. Some one caught 
her hand, and in her terror she blindly followed her 
self-constituted guide. 

“ Do not be frightened,” whispered a voice in her 
ear; “it is only a bat.” 

“ A bat! ” cried Belle, in a horrified tone. “ Oh, 
where? where?” and quite panic-stricken, she fol- 
lowed her companion’s lead up a narrow passage, 
only stopping when out of breath. Adolphe still 
held her hand; in her agitation, she let him keep 
possession of it; he stood close to her, his eyes fixed 
on her face with passionate fervor. 

“Belle,” he said tenderly, “ma Belle, tell me 
that you are no longer frightened.” 

“ Oh, no,” she said, gradually coming back to her- 


THE VAGARIES OF A BAT. 


163 


self. Then, beginning to realize who her companion 
was, she continued, “ Let us return to the others.” 

“Will you not stay with me for one moment % ” 
pleaded Adolphe, placing himself in front of her. 

“Let me pass, Monsieur!” cried the girl, indig- 
nantly. For all answer, Adolphe caught her in 
his arms and kissed her repeatedly. 

Belle neither struggled nor cried; she remained 
perfectly passive; but on being released from the 
young man’s grasp, she covered her face with her 
hands and burst into heavy sobs. Not a word did 
she speak; she ignored the man’s very existence, 
forgetting everything but the indignity she had 
endured. 

She could have said or done nothing better calcu- 
lated to bring Adolphe immediately to his senses, 
lie saw all but too plainly that there was no love, 
no weakness, no coquetry in such tears. 

“ Pardon me,” he whispered; “do not cry;” and 
he turned as he spoke to pilot her back to their 
party. Belle did not answer him; she wiped away 
her tears, and in silence the two young people re- 
turned to the spot where the bat had so frightened 
her. Nothing could be seen of their party on 
reaching the gallery; no torch-light glimmered in 
the distance, no voices guided them. Belle seated 
herself on a bench cut into the side of the rock, 
while Adolphe went forward on an unsuccessful 


164 : 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


recoil noissance. lie was agitated and preoccupied, 
touched by Belle’s evident grief, and annoyed with 
himself for his own stupidity; and he did not have 
his wits about him, or he would have remembered 
that by following the stream in either direction 
they must finally come to the entrance or exit of 
the grotto. In his present frame of mind,' the 
paths seemed to him to cross in all directions, and 
he returned to Belle, much crestfallen, to say that 
he could see nothing of their party. 

“ Will they come back this way?” asked Belle. 

“No, Mees.” 

“Then,” said Belle, rising wearily from her seat, 
“we must walk on until we find them.” 

Adolphe kept his misgivings about the way to 
himself; and they walked on in what was, as near 
as he could make out, the right direction. 

The main parly were some time in discovering 
the absence of two of their number. Monsieur 
Paul brought up the rear of the little procession, 
and he it was who first noticed that Belle was no 
longer with them. Wishing to point out to her a 
very fine stalactite, half turning, he said: 

“ Mees Adams, look at this beautiful specimen ;” 
but no Belle was there. As Monsieur Paul was 
anxious for her to see the crystal, he walked to t^e 
front, but she was not' there either. 

“ Where is Mees?” he asked. 


THE VAGARIES OF A BAT. 


165 


“ We thought she was with you,” was the answer. 

The party came to a halt, and the guides dashed 
their torches hither and thither, but no Belle was 
to be seen. 

“ I hope that she has not fainted,” said the Baron. 
“ I noticed that she was very pale when we were 
in the refreshment room. She is probably not 
used to such long tramps.” 

“ Oh, she ’s strong enough,” said Madame Masson. 

Louise could, have nervous attacks, and Madame 
exacted sympathy from her friends on account of 
her own migraines / but no one else had her 
permission to be ill. Like many very strong peo- 
ple, Madame fancied that illness made people in- 
teresting, and she wished no one to be interesting 
but herself and her daughter. 

“ Where is the gentleman in the light overcoat?” 
asked one of the guides. 

A thrill went through the company — where, in- 
deed, was Adolphe? 

“ I thought he was with you, Oda,” said Madame 
Masson, faintly. 

“No, aunt,” answered Oda, quietly. 

“ Then they will not be back so soon,” ex- 
claimed Madame Masson, in her excitement, quite 
forgetting Oda’s presence. 

“ Let us wait a few moments,” suggested the 
Baroness. 


166 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“ I will go back for them,” said Monsieur Paul. 

“No, Paul, let one of the guides go; you may 
lose your way,” said the Baron. 

One of the guides was sent after the lost ones. 

The viols of Madame Masson’s wrath were full 
to overflowing; she could no longer contain her- 
self. Calling the Baroness to her side, she expati- 
ated with a trembling voice on Belle’s iniquities, 
and related what Oda’s maid had seen. Madame 
Masson ended by saying that she trusted they 
would believe her next time, and not accuse her of 
injustice and suspiciousness; in the morning, she 
should pack the Americaine off, as she had now 
every right to do, etc. etc. 

In vain the Baroness tried to calm her; Madame 
was not to be appeased; so finding that it only an- 
gered her the more, she allowed her to have her way 
and say her say. 

. Madame de Heuze was much troubled by the 
turn affairs had taken; but she was a woman slow 
to believe and slow to lose faith. Remembering 
Leopoldine’s nocturnal visit to the garden, she re- 
solved to sift that matter until she should arrive at 
the truth. The party walked to the exit to await 
there the return of the guide; they landed from the 
little boats in almost absolute silence. 

“ Why, there is Nononcourt’s carriage,” said the 
Baron, with returning animation; “and there is 


THE VAGARIES OF A BAT. 


167 


Hononcourt himself,” and lie advanced to meet his 
friend with cheerful alacrity, eager, manlike, to es- 
cape from an impending scene. 

u My dear de Heuze,” said Monsieur de Honon- 
court, as he shook the Baron’s proffered hand, “ this 
meeting with you is most fortunate! Whom do you 
think I have in the carriage with me? that young 
American who was so very civil to me when I went 
over to the Philadelphia Exhibition. My young 
brother Ilenri met him in Paris, you remember, 
and gave me a letter of introduction to him. He 
resides with his mother, who is a very superior 
woman, near Boston. He is a remarkably culti- 
vated fellow, as well as a young Croesus, and is 
staying now at Kochefort, at Biron’s Hotel. His 
plans seem very unsettled, so he will not come to 
Hononcourt; but we shall do our best to make his 
visit to this part of the country pleasant. Can I 
bring him over to call on you?” 

“ We should be most happy to make his acquaint- 
ance. What is his name? ” 

“ Win throp, Monsieur Henri Winthrop. Come 
and be introduced to him.” 

The Baron walked with his friend towards the 
Hononcourt carriage, from which a tall, and rather 
slight young man descended on their approach, and 
responded in very fair French, and with the ease 
of a man who had seen much of the world, to the 
Baron’s courteous greeting. 


168 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“De Heuze, I want you to help me persuade my 
friend that he is shaming our Belgian hospitality 
by persistently remaining in u, hotel so near our 
homes,” said Monsieur de Nononcourt, turning to 
the Baron. 

“ I am not certain how long I shall stay in this 
neighborhood,” answered Henry Winthrop, for he 
it was; “ but if I am fortunate enough to spend 
more than a day or two in this charming spot, I 
will gladly avail myself of Monsieur de Nonon- 
court’s kind invitation.” 

The Baron, in his turn, hoped that Monsieur 
would decide to prolong his stay, and that he would 
do him the honor of dining with him before leav- 
ing the Ardennes. After the interchange of a few 
more civilities, the Baron returned to his party, de- 
lighted with his new acquaintance, and the Nonon- 
court carriage drove away. 

“ Do you know a place called Montfaucon, not 
far from here?” inquired Winthrop of his friend, 
as they drove off. 

“Yes; it is the Baron de Henze’s place, the gen- 
tleman I just introduced to you; one of my oldest 
friends.” 

“Oh, indeed!” answered Winthrop, in a tone of 
pleased surprise; but he said no more. 

“ My dear,” said the Baron to his wife, “ that 
gentleman with Nononcourt is an American — a 


THE VAGARIES OF A BAT. 


169 


vary distingue young man. Yononcourt staid at 
Ills house in America and almost fell in love with * 
his mother, a gentle little widow, devoted to her 
sjn and to good works. This young fellow has 
been in Europe several times; he is traveling now 
for pleasure, d V Anglais. 1 asked him to dine 
with us, so that Oda might make a foreign con- 
quest. And I thought of you, Paul; you can talk 
politics with him and obtain all the information 
you desire about the Land of Liberty.” 

u Why did you not ‘introduce him to us? ” in- 
quired Monsieur Masson, with offended pomposity. 

“ I like to make the acquaintance of distinguished 
foreigners ; and I can often be of a little service to 
them one way or another.” 

“ Well, to tell the truth, I thought we were 
-rather a depressed-looking party — not you, of course, 
Masson, but the rest of us. I was not willing that 
he should see our ladies at a disadvantage; you 
know the Americans are very proud of their 
female compatriots, and we think that ours are 
well worth looking at. I am sure Mademoiselle 
Oda is grateful to me.” 

“ Indeed, I am,” answered Oda. 

“ And I, as well,” said the Baroness. 

“You see, Masson, that my judgment was cor- 
rect. You must come with me to-morrow to call 
on him. He is stopping at Biron’s.” 


170 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


At that moment the guide came up to announce 
his failure to find Belle or Adolphe. If the truth 
were known, he had not tried very hard; he 
went back a little distance, fell in with another 
guide, and they both sat down where they were, to 
have a quiet smoke together. Unless Belle and 
Adolphe should have happened to pass by, they 
ran small risk of being found by this unfaithful 
envoy. 

“ How much longer are we to remain here ? I 
never heard of such a scandalous proceeding ! ” 
exclaimed Madame Masson, in a loud angry voice. 

The Baroness saw one of the guides givediis fel- 
low a sly wink. 

“We had better return at once,” she said, with 
decision. “ I am sure that Anatole will wait and 
see Mees safely home.” 

The Baron, catching his wife’s eye, readily as- 
sented to her proposition. “I fear Mees has been 
taken ill,” he said, gravely. 

“Ill — indeed!” almost shouted Madame Masson, 
past all patience or prudence. 

Neither of the gentlemen seemed anxious for 
the honor of returning in Madame Masson’s com- 
pany, so the lot fell to the Baroness and Oda to 
do so. 

“Did you ever see anything to equal this in all 
your life?” began Madame Masson, who would 


THE VAGARIES OF A BAT . 


171 


have died had she not been able to give some vent 
to her wrath. “ The boldness of the girl! If these 
are American ways, deliver me from them.” 

“But, aunt,” pleaded Oda, “why should you be 
so angry with Mees until you know what has hap- 
pened ! Perhaps she has fainted; they may have 
lost their way.” 

“What should you know about it, you innocent 
child?” returned Madame, all but moved to senti- 
mental tears. “ A } T oung girl properly brought up 
cannot understand such wickedness; cannot fath- 
om it.” 

The Baroness held her peace; full well she knew 
that any word from her would but add fuel to the 
flame. She gave Oda, however, a kind smile, and 
a few moments later drew the girl’s wrap more 
closely about her, in a way that was in itself a 
caress. Though much pleased, the Baroness was 
not a little surprised at Oda’s championship in 
Belle’s behalf. “ Is it pride, is it a sense of justice, 
or is it complete indifference to Adolphe?” she 
asked herself. 

In the meantime, Belle and Adolphe were any- 
thing but comfortable. The young girl was not 
long in discovering that Adolphe had not the 
faintest idea where lie was guiding her; and 
after walking for what seemed to her hours, with 
no satisfactory result, she refused to advance fur- 


172 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


tlier in that direction, and sat down for a moment 
on a stone to rest. Adolphe stood before her, with 
a most helplessly dejected expression of counte- 
nance; he was far better at getting people into 
scrapes than at helping them out. 

At last a luminous idea struck Belle — Monsieur 
Paul Masson’s remark about following the river 
came to her mind. 

“Monsieur Spierley,” she said, with renewed 
energy, “ we must find the river and follow it:” 

“ The very thing; I wonder I had not thought of 
that before,” returned Adolphe. In his relief, he 
would have made Belle a little compliment on her 
acuteness, had he dared. After following the river 
for some distance, Belle saw that they must be on 
the right track at last, for the caves were all wide 
and high, and they had evidently reached the thor- 
oughfare. They heard a dull booming sound, that 
reverberated from gallery to galleryTike prolonged 
thunder. 

“What is that?” cried Belle, much startled. 

“We are going in the right direction now,” an- 
swered Adolphe; “that noise is the cannon; the 
others are .leaving the grotto.” 

Half an hour later, the fugitives reached the 
little boat that ferries visitors out of the grotto, and 
were rowed over the clear water, out into the golden 
mellow sunset and the soft summer air; the light 


THE VAGARIES OF A BAT. 


173 


dazzled Belle’s half-blinded eyes. As they landed, 
the Baron came forward, looking seriously annoyed, 
and asked, with little of his usual courtesy: 

“ Where have you tWo been hiding yourselves? ” 

Adolphe was voluble in his explanations. A bat 
had frightened Mees; she had run down a side gal- 
lery; he had followed to reassure her; they had im- 
mediately returned to where they had left the 
party, but could find no one. They had wandered 
about for hours in that dismal cavern; he for one 
should never want to see the place again. 

The Baron looked at Belle; her face was deadly 
pale, hardly a vestige of color in cheek or lips. She 
remained silent, neither corroborating nor denying 
Adolphe’s tale. 

“ You look very ill, Mees,” said he, compassion- 
ately. 

“ I am tired,” answered the girl wearily, with- 
out lifting her eyes. 

“ Adolphe, you ride my horse home. Mees 
Adams and I will go in the carriage,” said the 
Baron; and he established Belle in the carriage as 
comfortably as he could, put some wraps under 
her head, and then seated himself opposite to her, 
bidding the coachmen drive slowly. The young 
girl lay wearily back on the cushions; one little 
liand lay listlessly in her lap, while the other sup- 
ported her tired head; her eyes were dosed, and 
every now and again her eyelids quivered. 


174 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“ She is wearied out, poor child, and excited, too,” 
thought the Baron. “I wonder if Adolphe did 
anything to annoy her? ” for, gazing on that pure 
young face, he exonerated her from all blame in the 
matter. 

The rest, the silence, and the evening air revived 
Belle, and before they reached home she was able 
to answer the Baron's kindly questions as to how 
she felt, with her usual pleasant smile. He asked 
nothing concerning her adventure, and she volun- 
teered no information. There was no one visible 
when they reached the chateau , and Belle went 
directly to her bedroom. 

“ What is it all about? ” asked Madame de Heuze, 
as her husband entered her dressing-room. 

“ I can not make it out,” he answered. “Adolphe 
says that Mees was frightened by a bat; that she 
ran down a side gallery; he ran after her to bring 
her back, and so they both lost their way.” 

“ If they had turned back immediately, they 
could not have missed us. What does Mees say? ” 
“Nothing; she looks tired out and wretchedly pale. 
If she were not a girl accustomed to controlling 
herself, she would have had a nervous attack in the 
carriage. I own that I was at one time half afraid 
of it; but she held herself beautifully still, and it 
passed off. She must not be excited to-night, Paul- 
ine. You had better take her some fleur cVoranger , 
and tell the others to leave her alone.” 


THE VAGARIES OF A BAT. 


175 


“ Cousin Masson has worked herself up into such 
a state, that she might be capable of any impru- 
dence.” 

“ Then go and see about it at once, my dear. 
They must leave that young girl in peace to-night, 
unless she is to have a fit of illness. She is as 
modest a woman as there is in the world,” and 
Monsieur de Heuze nodded emphaticalty at his wife. 

“ So I have always thought,” replied the Baron- 
ess, returning her husband’s nod ; then she left the 
room, armed with a bottle of flour d' or anger , to 
seek Belle’s apartment. 


CHAPTER XI. 

NOT LEARNING, BUT WISDOM . 

When the bell rang for dinner, two of the guests 
did not appear. Belle was too ill to leave her 
room — indeed, the Baroness had insisted that she 
should go at once to bed; and Madame Masson sent 
word to her hostess that she was suffering from a 
violent migraine , and begged to excuse herself from 
appearing that evening. 

The dinner was a silent one. Oda was a little 
pale and preoccupied; Monsieur Paul was ab- 
stracted; Adolphe Spierley, sullen. Madame Paul, 
having spent the day alone, was disposed to be 
bright and chatty, but finding the company irre- 
sponsive she too caught the general infection, and 
cast anxious glances first at her husband and then 
at her aunt. 

As soon as dinner was over, Adolphe took a 
cigar and sauntered into the garden. Madame de 
Henze followed him. 

“ Cher ami” she began, laying. her hand gently, 

( 176 ) 


NOT LEARNING , BUT WISDOM. 


ITT 


almost coaxingly, on the young man’s arm. “ I 
have a word to say to you.” 

Adolphe did not even turn round, or remove his 
cigar; he was thoroughly out of temper. The 
Baroness resumed gently, but with decision: 
“ Adolphe, after what has passed, I think I must 
ask you to leave Montfaucon. You are troubling 
your aunt.” 

“ My aunt is a fool ! ” 

Madame de Ileuze felt inclined to ask, “ And 
what are you?” but restrained herself, and con- 
tinued with the same grave suavity: “ As a gentle- 
man, you owe it to Mees Adams to leave, and to 
leave at once. She is in a dependent’s position, a 
stranger, alone, far from her home and her natural 
protectors.” 

“ I have done her no harm,” said Adolphe, sulk- 
ily. “ She does not care a straw for me.” 

“ So I think myself,” answered the Baroness, 
simply; “but your presence here, after the unfor- 
tunate occurrence of to-day, which has been made 
far too much of, may do her harm. I fear you have 
been the cause of making her lose a comfortable 
situation, and if you are not very careful you may 
compromise her seriously in her present unpro- 
tected position. In these cases it is always the 
woman who suffers, however innocent, and a man 
of honor will think of that.” 

12 


178 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


If Madame de Henze fancied that Adolphe 
would sacrifice himself to spare anyone, she de- 
ceived herself. 

For a moment he remained silent, thinking of 
his own woes. 

“ I was a fool to come here ! ” he cried at length. 

The Baroness gave him a sharp glance. 

“Hang it all!” resumed the young man, pet- 
tishly, “ I was a fool to come, and a greater one to 
stay. If they do not leave off interfering with me as 
though I were a child, I’ll ask Mees to become 
Madame Spierley, and see how they like that. 
Though I do not know,” he continued, in a tone of 
suppressed rage, “ why I should make such a sac- 
rifice for a girl who has treated me as if I were the 
dirt beneath her feet.” 

“Bon!” thought the Baroness; “this is good 
news,” and her spirits rose, for in spite of her de- 
termination to believe Belle perfectly trustworthy, 
she was both vexed and puzzled by the tale Madame 
Masson had told her. The Baroness was too wise to 
push Adolphe to any further explanations — indeed, 
she ca^ed to hear no more, knowing all that she 
wished. Again she looked earnestly at the young 
man’s flushed and excited face, and said: 

“ You are not serious, Adolphe? ” 

“Indeed I am,” he replied, turning on his heel, 
as if to end the conversation. 


NOT LEARNING, BUT WISDOM. 


179 


“ But your cousin Oda? ” said Madame de Heuze. 

“ I do not care a snap of my finger for Oda, and 
I never did.” In this, Adolphe exaggerated a good 
deal; his mind was quite taken up for the moment 
by his fancy for Belle; but at one time he had been 
much interested in his cousin. 

“ Mon cher , your family would never hear of 
such a marriage! ” cried the Baroness. “ It would 
place Mees Adams in a very false position; and, to 
be frank with you, I do not consider you suited to 
each other.” 

“ Madame,” returned the young man, turning 
suddenly and facing the lady, “ I believe she has 
bewitched me, as my aunt says. She showed me 
to-day how entirely she despises me; and though I 
try to hate her for it — I can not ;” — and to the 
amazement of the Baroness, Adolphe threw him- 
self down on a garden-chair, and buried his head 
in his arms, overcome by mingled emotions of 
pride, anger, and hurt affection. Madame de Heuze 
passed her hand caressingly over his bent head, 
seeking to soothe him, as she would have done a 
sobbing child. They stood thus a moment in si- 
lence, then the young man lifted his head, seized 
her hand, carried it to his lips, then rose up hastily 
and walked rapidly off into the fast-coming dark- 
ness. 

With a sigh, Madame de Heuze turned to go 


180 


BELGIAN DAYS . 


in-doors; a man’s emotion, even when neither very- 
real ^nor very profound, always touches a woman’s 
heart. As she neared the house, she saw some one 
standing in the doorway which opened into the 
garden, and recognized Oda Spierley, who advanced 
to meet Madame de Heuze, and said in a hurried, 
agitated voice: 

“ May I speak with } 7 ou a moment alone, dear 
Madame?” 

“ Certainly, chere amie ,” replied Madame de 
Heuze. 

“ I will bid our friends good-night, and then will 
you come to my boudoir? ” 

“ Madame Paul is the only person in the draw- 
ing-room,” remarked Oda. 

“We had better go in for a moment, at all 
events,” answered the Baroness, who believed in 
keeping up all the forms. 

After a little chat with her niece, Madame de 
Heuze announced her intention of retiring for the 
night, pleading her extreme fatigue. 

Madame Paul was disappointed; the most excit- 
ing events were transpiring, and no one told her 
anything. Paul was a failure at gossip; he never 
knew anything or never would tell anything, which 
amounted to the same thing-. 

Madame Paul made one effort, at least, and asked, 
half timidly, “ I hope Mees is not very ill, aunt?” 


NOT LEARNING, BUT WISDOM. 


181 


“ Oh, no,” answered the Baroness, “she is over- 
tired; it is unfortunate they should have lost their 
way, for you know the air in the Han Grotto has 
a very prejudicial effect on persons remaining too 
long in it. She will be all right by to-morrow, I 
trust, pauvre petite! ” 

Madame Paul brightened up; her aunt would 
never have said pauvre petite in that kind tone, if 
Mees had been guilty of anything very much out 
of the way. So the little lady bade her aunt good- 
night, satisfied that she could be just as fqnd of 
Belle as ever; and this conviction brought much 
contentment to her kind heart. On the other 
hand, had the Baroness told her that she must give 
up all intimacy with her new friend, she would 
have acquiesced, if with a sigh. 

Not so Monsieur Paul; no power on earth could 
have made him turn his back on people whom he 
liked, unless he had seen for himself that they 
were unworthy. In season and out of season, he 
would have stood up for them, expressing his 
friendship whenever their names were mentioned. 

Madame de Heuze had the candles lighted iij. her 
little boudoir, dismissed her maid, and, while wait- 
ing for Oda, seated herself in a large easy-chair, a 
luxury she seldom indulged in. A light tap was 
soon heard at the door, and the young girl entered. 
After a moment’s hesitation, she seated herself on 
a low stool at the Baroness’ feet 


182 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


Madame de Henze thought she had never seen 
Oda look so pretty; her well-fitting . dress, of a 
deep cream color, was very becoming to her clear 
complexion and dark eyes, and showed off her trim 
figure to the best advantage. But what enhanced 
lier beauty far more than any merely external adorn- 
ment, was the unusual amount of expression in her 
countenance. Oda had, as has before been stated, 
an intelligent face; her eyes were what the Ger- 
mans would call geistreich; she had a sensitive 
color, that came and went, denoting lively emo- 
tions; but there was a lack of tenderness: no loving 
light shone in her dark eyes. 

That night she appeared transformed; her face 
was pale and her lips were slightly drawn, as though 
with suppressed feeling; thus her face gained the 
charm it usually lacked. 

“ Well, my child,” said the Baroness, after wait- 
ing an instant to allow her young friend to speak 
first, “ what is it?” 

Oda’s hands trembled slightly as they lay in her 
lap. 

“ I wish to ask you a question, Madame,” she 
said hesitatingly, and then stopped. 

“ Oda,” resumed the Baroness, “ Adolphe said a 
few words to me this evening, which completely 
exonerate Mees Adams from the least blame in the 
annoying incident of to-day. I believe that they 


NOT LEARNING, BUT WISDOM. 


183 


lost tlie patl^ and were both as much vexed at the 
affair as any of us.” 

“ It is not of that I wish to speak. It has no- 
thing to do with Mees Adams — indeed, m'y princi- 
pal object in coming to Montfaucon was to seek a 
few moments’ conversation with you, though had I 
known that Adolphe was here I should have de- 
ferred my visit until after his departure.” 

The Baroness looked surprised, but waited for 
Oda to speak. She seemed to find some difficulty 
in telling her tale; her cheek, so pale a moment 
before, now flushed scarlet, but she gathered cour- 
age, and went on firmly, though stammering a 
little: 

u You will think my question a very strange one 
for a young girl to ask; but mother is so delicate 
that I dare say nothing to agitate her, and some- 
thing seemed to say to me, ‘ Go to Madame de 
Heuze,’ and so I came. I have so wanted to speak 
to you all this week, but I was a coward, and put it 
off from day to day; but to-night I made up my 
mind that speak I must.” Again Oda made a long 
pause. 

“Well, dear child?” said the Baroness encour 
agingly, taking one of the girl’s cold hands in her 
own, and patting it softly. 

Oda steadied her voice, and went on: 

“ My mother’s maid, and mine before I took Leo- 


184 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


poldine, had been with us ever since I was born; 
she came from Huy, and has a great many relations 
living there. One of them, a cousin, was a very 
pretty girl, and worked in a factory of Uncle Mas- 
son’s.” 

The Baroness gave a slight start. 

“Oh, Madame!” cried Oda, “you know what I 
mean; I see it in your face. Is that story true? 
Did my cousin Adolphe leave that young girl and 
his poor little child to starve? ” The girl’s voice 
was trembling with honest indignation. 

The Baroness found herself in a very embarrass- 
ing position; it was the last question in the world 
she had expected Oda to ask. She could not tell 
an untruth to this confiding girl on a subject 
that was to influence her whole life, and she dis- 
liked to tell the truth, and perhaps be the means 
of breaking off a marriage on which two families 
were bent. As was natural to a woman of the 
Baroness’ temperament, she sought to temporize, 
and was casting about for a discreet and at the 
same time not untruthful answer, when Adolphe’s 
words came to her mind: “I do not care the snap 
of my finger for my cousin Oda, and never did. ” 
This gave her courage, and she ventured evasively; 

“ Monsieur Spierley gave the girl’s parents a 
large sum of money.” 

“ Ho, it was Uncle Masson who gave the money, 


NOT LEARNING , BUT WISDOM. 


185 


and I was told that Adolphe did not know what 
became of his own child. And they wish me to 
put my hand in that man’s as his wife! Never ! ” 

The Baroness made no reply, quite taken aback 
by so bold an assertion coming from a young girl’s 
lips. “ My dear Oda,” said she at length, “ that is 
for your mother to decide.” 

“ No,” returned the girl, “ it is for me to decide. 
It is I who must live with Adolphe, not Mamma.” 

The Baroness caressed the hand she held, in si- 
lence. What a strange education this child had 
received ! All this came from her father’s liberalism. 
Here was a young girl inquiring into a young man’s 
private life, and boldly asserting her right to decide 
for herself in marriage — two anomalies in social 
life that the Baroness had never expected to live to 
witness. Still she was becoming a party to this 
strange proceeding, and what was more, liking the 
girl better than she had ever done before. 

u Dear Oda,” said the Baroness, “ I am not go- 
ing to excuse Adolphe’s conduct in this affair; far 
be it from me; yet it is my duty to tell you that 
he is no worse than thousands of other young men, 
and he has the excuse that he is an unusually hand- 
some, and, to most women, attractive man. Mar- 
ried to a good and true woman, as you have shown 
yourself to be, young and pretty,” continued the 
Baroness with a charming smile, u there would be 
much hope for him.” 


186 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“But lie is so selfish, so violent, so childish; he 
does not truly care for me; he makes me flattering 
speeches, but they have not a true ring.” 

“ There is certainly more depth to this child’s 
character than I gave her credit for,” thought the 
Baroness. “ She would be very unhappy married 
to a man like Adolphe, since capacity for feeling 
always means capacity for suffering.” Then she 
said aloud: “ In this matter you must be guided 
by your relations, Oda. I should be committing a 
dishonorable action by advising you one way or the 
other. Your mother loves you too fondly ever to 
force your inclinations. She has seen but little of 
Adolphe, and on a closer acquaintance he might 
not be her choice; so we may safely leave your fu- 
ture with her. But, my child,” went on the Bar- 
oness, a certain pathos coming into her voice, which 
was always the case when she was deeply moved, 
“remember, a woman’s life is one of abnegation 
always, of suffering often; we cannot say this will 
I do, and that will I not do, and I will be happy, 
sorrow shall not touch me. Our lives are shaped 
for us, and generally our strength lies, not in form- 
ing our lives according to our own desires, but in 
making the best . . . . ” 

“Of a very bad bargain?” interrupted Oda, 
archly. 

The Baroness smiled, sighed, and then replied: 


NOT LEARNING , BUT WISDOM . 


1ST 


“Exactly so; a man’s strength is to shape his life 
wisely — a woman’s, to bear her’s patiently.” 

“Well,” returned Oda, with a little toss of her 
pretty head — for, now that the dreadful question had 
been asked and answered, her heart was lighter — 
“ I shall be happy, if I can possibly manage it. 
After all, we have but one life.” 

“ You forget the other,” said the Baroness, gently. 

“ I am not at all sure about the other,” answered 
Oda, lightly. 

“ My child,” said the Baroness, “you have shown 
me to-night that you are a woman of heart and- of 
intellect,^ strong, true, and withal a tender nature. 
I have been more touched than I can express by 
the confidence you have shown me. In return, may 
I speak as freely with you ?” 

“ Of course you may, dear Madame.” 

“Then,” resumed the Baroness, “if you value 
your peace of mind, keep your faith in God. From 
my experience of life, from what I know of the 
human heart, in the hour of temptation, I tell you, 
dear, an abstract principle of right will hold no 
woman; we need something more tender, some- 
thing nearer; we are satisfied only with a personal 
God.” 

“ I should be sorry to think, dear Madame,” in- 
terrupted Oda, “ that my parents had spent such 
sums on my education, and made such personal 
sacrifices for it, in vain.” 


188 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“ I am going to tell you a little story, ” said the 
Baroness, after a moment’s pause. “ Not long since 
I was staying with a sweet friend of mine, a young 
married woman, somewhat older than you, and, 
like you, brought up in a Liberal school. At the 
time that I was visiting her, she was much inter- 
ested in trying to reclaim a pretty, bright girl from 
her husband’s estate, who had made a lapse in 
virtue. She had taken the girl as a servant, and 
was trying very hard to interest her in sewing and 
in learning to read. One morning, I was sitting 
in my friends boudoir, when Jeannette came in to 
find some thread, and her mistress began chiding 
her gently for her want of application to iTer books, 
adding, finally, 4 Ah, Jeanette, if you had known 
how to read, you would never have got into 
trouble.’ 

“ The girl stood leaning against the door, and 
looked over at her young mistress with a half mis- 
chievous, half sad smile, as she gave this truly re- 
markable answer: ‘Madame, you are voun<r: 
learning has nothing to do with the matter.’ 

“Now, Oda, for all this speech was made by a 
grisette in a coquettish white cap and long earrings, 
there is a deal of truth in it. It is not learning 
but wisdom that saves from sin, and we know from 
good authority that the fear of the Lord is the be- 
ginning of wisdom. If your liberal education has 


NOT LEARNING , BUT WISDOM. 


189 


taken this from you it has robbed you of a great 
deal. I have seen you act with decision and with 
an understanding beyond your years. I trace this 
mental superiority to its right source — a liberal 
education that has taught you to look at things as 
they are, not to hide your eyes like a frightened 
child in the dark. I acknowledge that this firm 
grasp of facts may, nay, probably will, save you 
much. But there are heart troubles from which no 
earthly forethought can shield us; then woe to us, 
my child, at such moments, if we have nothing 
deeper than knowledge to cling to. Believe me, go 
not defenseless to encounter the snares and pitfalls 
that meet us, the crushing disappointments that 
from time to time fall upon us as we travel on our 
earthly pilgrimage.” 

Tears fell from the Baroness’ eyes as she uttered 
these last few words, and Oda, much moved, car- 
ried her friend’s hand to her lips. Madame de 
Iieuze returned her caress, and rising from her 
chair, walked to the window to calm her unusual 
agitation; returning in an instant to Oda, who had 
also risen from her seat, she said, half apologeti- 
cally: 

“I hope I have not excited you; I forgot how 
tired we both were. Shall I not mix you a little 
eau sucreef ” 

“No, thanks, Madame,” said Oda, with a smile. 


190 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


No emotion, however deep and real, could make 
Madame de Ileuze neglect very long her little pre- 
cautionary measures. 

The Baroness took up a candle, and herself con- 
ducted Oda to her room, taking leave of her with a 
gentle pressure of the hand and a whispered — “ Que 
Dieu soit avec vous .” 

On regaining her own room, Madame de Ileuze 
gave way to passionate tears. A very emotional 
woman was the Baroness; her calm and self-con- 
tained demeanor was but a protecting mask. 

Her husband’s step on the stairs roused her; she 
sprang up, wiped away her tears, and commenced,, 
with her usual methodical care, her preparations 
for retiring for the night. 

“Why, Pauline, not yet in bed? you will be 
completely tired out to-morrow,” was her hus- 
band’s exclamation, as he entered the room. 

“ I know it, mon ami , but I could not help it. 
Are you not late yourself? ” 

“ Yes; Masson began to drink a little — you know 
that ’s his resort in an emergency — so I did not care 
to leave him. He has gone to bed now. Did 
Mees tell you anything?” 

“Not a word; but Adolphe did,” and Madame 
de Ileuze repeated her conversation with Adolphe 
in the garden. 

“Bah, he’ll never marry her; no fear of that. 


NOT LEARNING , BUT WISDOM. 


191 


I am glad tliat Mees is all right; I hate being dis- 
appointed in people, and I have taken a great liking 
to the girl. Yon will have some difficulty in con- 
vincing the amiable Madame Masson that her gov- 
erness is all that she should be. I think you 
have a task there that will tax even your diplo- 
matic powers.” 


CHAPTER XII. 

BENT , BUT NOT BROKEN. 

Breakfast at Montfaucon was the only meal at 
which punctuality was not the rule. Madame de 
Ileuze made her appearance in the dining-room 
promptly at eight o’clock, and her arrival was the 
signal for the servants to put the coffee-urn on the 
table; the hostess waited until those guests who 
had sat down with her had finished, then she went 
about her usual morning duties. It was always 
ten o’clock before the breakfast things could be 
cleared away; Monsieur Masson-Spierley and 
Adolphe being generally the latest arrivals. 

Belle ignored the storm that her “ esclandre ,” as 
Madame Masson chose to call it, had excited in that 
lady’s breast, and the real annoyance it had given 
her friends. She considered herself the aggrieved 
party, that she should have been subjected to insult 
from one of Madame’s relatives while under her 
protection. Indignation, over-fatigue, and the con- 
fined air of the grotto hud made her feel seriously 
ill the night previous, but a good night’s sleep had 
(192) ^ 


BENT , BUT NOT BROKEN. 


193 


rested her, and her nervous system had recovered 
its usual tone; though still pale, she was perfectly 
self-possessed and quite at her ease as she entered 
the dining-room and took her usual place. 

The company were all assembled excepting the 
Baron, Monsieur Masson, and Adolphe. 

The absence of her tormentor tended to increase 
Belle’s composure. The Baroness gave her a smile, 
and in a few kind words expressed her pleasure at 
seeing her again in such comparatively good health. 
Monsieur Paul also congratulated her on her re- 
covery, in his simple honest fashion. Madame 
Masson looked so glum and so grimly mysterious 
that poor Madame Paul, who was seated next to 
her, feared to join her congratulations to her hus- 
band’s, though longing to do so. She compromised 
matters by smiling and nodding at Belle when 
Madame Masson was looking in another direction. 

Hot so Oda. Sleep had restored her color, and 
all signs of her emotion of the previous evening 
had disappeared from her fair young face. She was 
not to be overawed by Madame Masson; so, when 
every one had spoken, she turned to Belle and said 
in her fresh, clear voice: 

“ We are delighted to see you down again. It 
must have been very tiresome to be shut up so 
long in that damp unwholesome grotto; no wonder 
it made you ill.” 

13 


191 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


This was certainly hard on Madame Masson — her 
own flesh and blood, as it were, turning against her. 

“ Thank yon,” said Belle, answering Oda. “ I 
feel almost like myself again. It was quite my fault 
in the first instance, for I got into a foolish panic 
about a bat, and ran in the wrong direction. After 
my fright was over, had I been alone, I think I 
should have found my way back without any diffi- 
culty. Unfortunately, Monsieur Spierley followed 
me; I relied on him to guide me, and the conse- 
quence was that we lost our way.” 

“Pray, Mees,” broke in Madame Masson, who 
could no longer remain silent, “ is it an American 
custom for young gentlemen and ladies to lose 
themselves in dark caverns?” 

“ I do not know as there is any question of na- 
tional custom about it; it is a slight misfortune, 
that may happen to any one in any country,” an- 
swered Belle, dryly. 

Madame de Heuze hastened to interfere, not 
knowing what retort was hovering on Madame 
Masson’s lips, and asked: 

“ Is Cousin Masson going to Rochefort with 
Anatole to-day?” 

“ I beljeve so,” was the answer, in a sharp tone. 

Little did Belle guess who was at Rochefort! 

Conversation now flagged somewhat; Oda Spier- 
ley made two or three kind remarks to Belle, there- 


BENT, BUT NOT BROKEN. 


195 


b} T earning for herself an approving smile from Mon- 
sieur Paul. 

When breakfast was over, Belle called Louise to 
her and went into the school -room to give her the 
usual morning lesson. Hardly had they taken their 
books, when Madame Masson entered. She did not 
sit down, but stood, feeling that she thereby gained 
an advantage ovef her enemy, and said, in a voice 
that trembled with anger: 

“ After what has passed, Mees, I shall no longer 
need your services as my daughter’s governess.” 

Belle was startled; but her lips were pressed 
tightly together, and into her eyes came a hard 
cold light, like the flash of steel, as she turned fully 
on Madame Masson and asked the simple question : 

“ And what has happened, Madame? ” 

“ That you know best,” answered the lady. “ I 
do not choose to enter into an explanation before my 
innocent child. I consider it sufficient to say that 
I dispense with your services. As you are a 
stranger, I am willing that you should remain with 
me until you can communicate with your friends. 
Were you a Belgian, my course would be different.” 

“ Madame,” answered Belle in a hard, firm voice, 
“ for the moment I ask for no explanation, though 
I am aware of nothing touching myself that the 
most innocent girl might not hear. I owe it to 
myself, however, to demand a full explanation be- 


196 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


fore I leave you.” As Belle spoke she rose from her 
chair and confronted her enemy — a slight figure, 
but with all the will of her Puritan ancestors hard- 
ening her pale face and her flexible mouth. 

Madame Masson was a little taken aback by the 
young girl’s determined attitude. Though violent, 
she was a coward at heart, and remembering that 
Belle had warm friends at Montfaucon, she dared not 
commit herself hopelessly by going too far. She felt 
she must now bide her time until she could separate 
her young enemy from those willing to befriend her; 
so she simply answered: “I am engaged for the 
moment, Mees, and I will take my daughter with 
me.” Madame, with some ostentation, held the door 
open for Louise to pass out before her, as though 
anxious to see her child safely out of Belle’s dan- 
gerous vicinity, and then sailed out herself. 

Belle sought her own room, where she paced up 
and down, greatly agitated. She had made a bold 
fight before Mjadame Masson, but now the poor 
child felt like wringing her hands and crying aloud 
in her grief and indignation. She finally walked 
to the open window and gazed abstractedly out 
trying to decide on some plan of action. It was 
a dull morning, and a fine drizzling rain was fall- 
ing — the early September fog that often precedes a 
fine afternoon in the Ardennes. 

Belle took but little heed of what was passing 


BENT, BUT NOT BROKEN. 


197 


in the outside world, so intent was she on devising 
some dignified and direct course out of her present 
difficulty. Her first impulse had been to appeal to 
the kind Baroness for protection, but on second 
thoughts she decided not to do this. “ I will wait 
quietly for Madame Masson to make her accusa- 
tion,” she said to herself; a nay, I will force her to 
speak plainly, now that she has dared to say so 
much, and then I will defend myself.” 

Madame Masson had made a miscalculation 
when she thought to browbeat a Hew England 
girl of Belle’s character. Belle had been slow to 
see whither events were tending — perhaps a nation- 
al failing; but she had plenty of energy and courage 
when brought face to face with an emergency — cer- 
tainly a national virtue. 

Her decision taken, Belle became calm, took 
down her little red-covered, well-worn Bible, and 
read the psalm beginning, “ Lord, thou hast been 
our dwelling-place in all generations.” 

Puritan to the backbone, there was in her that 
mixture of good common-sense and religious en- 
thusiasm that constituted the force of the Pilgrim 
Fathers, a force strong enough to overcome all 
obstacles, and that made them the worthy founders 
of a Great Republic. 

Madame de Heuze, the most domestic of women, 
great lady though she was, was in the housekeeper’s 


198 


BELGIAN DAYS . 


room, examining some cans of newly-preserved 
fruit, when Madame Masson entered, her face 
aflame with excitement and annoyance, and began : 

“It is no use, Pauline; I shall send that sly 
Americaine about her business. I do not think it 
consistent with my duty as a mother to allow Lou- 
ise’s imagination to be soiled by witnessing such 
performances; the dear child is so ndi/oe that she 
confides everything to me; before this last affair 
she told me that Adolphe kept meeting them when 
they were out for a walk.” 

Madame de Heuze had her own opinion as to Lou- 
ise’s naivete , but she made no reply. 

“ I shall pay her up to-day, and get rid of her 
as soon as possible,” continued Madame Masson, 
hurried by Madame de Heuze’s silence into saying 
more than she had intended. 

“Has she any friends in this country?” asked 
the Baroness, quietly. 

“ I do not know, and do not care,” answered 
Madame Masson, again losing her temper; “the 
purity of my child’s surroundings is naturally my 
first consideration. Besides, I have no intention of 
turning her out of the house at a day’s notice.” 

“Ho, you could hardly do that,” answered the 
Baroness, coldly. “Frankly, my cousin, I think you 
are much mistaken in this matter, and I should re- 
gret to see you commit an injustice, of which you 


BENT , BUT NOT BROKEN 


199 


would be the first to repent. I have watched Mees 
carefully ever since Adolphe’s arrival — for, of course, 
I saw by your manner that something was wrong; 
and I assure you that I have seen nothing amiss in 
anything she has said or done.” 

“ She’s sharp enough to keep quiet before peo- 
ple,” returned Madame Masson. 

“ I had also a few words with Adolphe,” con- 
tinued Madame de Henze, not heeding the inter- 
ruption, “and I know from what he said — and he was 
too excited to calculate his words — that Mees Adams 
must have been perfectly correct in her conduct 
toward him. That he endeavored to make love to 
her is certain; his own words prove it; but I am 
equally persuaded that she repulsed him. I think 
it would be kinder and wiser to allow the matter to 
drop, since you may compromise the reputation of 
an innocent young girl.” 

“Mees did not repulse him the other day at the 
gate.” 

Madame de Ileuze lost patience. She stopped 
her work among her jelly pots, and said, looking 
steadily at her cousin: “I should advise you to be 
careful what you do in this affair. Do you know 
that Adolphe threatens to marry Mees? lie told 
me last night that he should offer marriage if he 
were interfered with any more. Under such cir- 
cumstances, it would be very poor policy to make a 
martyr of the young girl.” 


200 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“Marry!” sliouted rather than said the elder 
lady, “ marry a penniless girl, from no one knows 
where! A handsome man like Adolphe! You are 
dreaming, Pauline!” 

“That’s what he said, at all events,” returned 
the Baroness, secretly enjoying her relative’s con- 
sternation. 

“What shall we do? he ’s so obstinate! Masson 
must telegraph for his uncles; we must have a fam- 
ily council. A girl without a sou! ” 

Rendered almost speechless by the enormity of 
her nephew’s contemplated wickedness, Madame 
sank down upon a chair. After a moment’s pause, 
she gathered breath and continued: 

“ Really, Pauline, I do n’t see how you can stand 
there so calm and composed, as though nothing 
were the matter. I must say it is somewhat your 
fault — your’s and Paul’s; if you had not made so 
much of the girl, taking her to walk with you and 
talking so much to her, Adolphe would never have 
thought of such a wild thing.” 

When things went wrong, Madame Masson al- 
ways endeavored to find a scapegoat, and generally 
succeeded, though it was a rare occurrence when the 
Baroness de Heuze was pressed into that role / in 
Madame’s domestic tragedies, some servant or de- 
pendent was usually the cat’s-paw. 

“ I do not admit,” resumed the Baroness, “ that 


BENT , BUT NOT BROKEN. 


201 


I, or any one, except the prime culprit, Adolphe, 
has been to blame in this matter; however, if you 
will intrust the affair to me and let me manage it 
my own way, I will do what I can, for I agree with 
you that any such marriage would be most unad- 
vi sable.” 

Seeing the Baroness was determined to up- 
hold Belle, and hearing that Adolphe had proposed 
marriage to, or rather with, the young governess, 
Madame began to fear that she had gone too far 
in her late conversation with “ Mees.” .Remem- 
bering Belle’s defiant glance, she fancied that the 
girl knew her power and meant to use it; so she 
willingly acceded to the Baroness’ proposition, 
sank into what the French call ses petits souliers , 
and said, “ I only wish I had known all this before. 
I should never have been so angry with poor Mees 
if that artful Leopoldine had not filled my ears 
with all sorts of tales.” 

“ The wind is shifting,” said the Baroness to her- 
self; then she added aloud, as Madame Masson 
was preparing to leave the room, “ I have formed 
a high opinion of Mees’s character; my husband 
lias taken a great liking to her, so you may be sure 
I shall be gentle with her. I shall try to pursuade 
Adolphe to leave the chateau , and I have no doubt 
that in a few days Mees will return to her friends.” 

Madame Masson returned a step or two: “If 


202 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


Adolphe means marriage and has given her a hint 
of it, perhaps our safest plan would be to buy her 
off?” 

Madame de Henze’s blue eyes flashed as she 
answered coldly, “ I will talk with Mees first, if 
you will allow me; then we can decide on our future 
course.” 

“Very well; remember you have carte blanche. 
I shall take Louise to Rochefort this morning. I 
should feel safer to have my child with me,” said 
Madame, again relapsing into the pathetic. 

Madame de Heuze continued the inspection of 
her jelly-pots. 

Madame Masson -Spier! ey accompanied the gen- 
tlemen on their drive to Rochefort, where the Baron 
and Monsieur Masson were to call on the young 
American. 


CHAPTEE XIII. 

DEUS EX M A CHINA, 

Half an hour later, as the Baroness was crossing 
the wide marble-paved hall, on her way to Belle’s 
room, her attention was arrested by the sound of 
wheels approaching the house. A carriage stopped, 
the man-servant opened the hall door, and Madame 
de Heuze waited a moment at the top of the stair- 
case to see if her presence was required in the 
drawing-room. The footman mounted the stairs 
with a card on a salver, which the Baroness was 
about to take. 

“ Pardon , the card is not for Madame. An An- 
glais is in the drawing-room, who desires to see 
Mees Adams.” 

Madame de Heuze glanced at the card, and read: 
“ Henry W. Winthrojp.” 

Surely, this was the gentleman whom her hus- 
band had gone to visit. 

“ Are you certain it was Mees whom the gentle- 
man asked for? ” 

The man looked surprised as he answered: 

( 203 ) 


204 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“ Yes, quite certain, Madame.” 

“ Take it to Mees Adams,” returned Madame de 
Heuze. An instant later, Belle rushed past her, 
with an agitated face, on her way to the drawing- 
room. There, standing in the recess between the 
long windows, was Henry Winthrop. 

“ You see I have come, Belle,” said the young 
man, advancing to- greet her. 

Belle’s heart was overcharged. She went up to 
him, put both hands in his, trying to say some w r ord 
of welcome, but her lips quivered. She hastily 
withdrew her hands and burst into a passionate fit of 
crying. She, who had been so strong and deter- 
mined an hour ago, so brave to fight her battle 
single-handed, now that help had so suddenly, so 
unexpectedly come to her, broke down completely 

Winthrop led her gently to a chair. 

“ Oh, take me home; take me home!” sobbed 
Belle; “take me away from here.” 

A slight tremor was visible about Winthrop’s 
mouth, bu^he asked calmly: 

“ Belle, tell me what troubles you so,” and taking 
one of her hands he added, soothingly: “Don’t 
cry, dear, but tell me what the matter is.” 

“ Oh, it is nothing, nothing,” said poor Belle, 
striving to regain her composure. “ You came so 
unexpectedly. I have not been very happy of late, 
a little homesick, and the sight of a familiar face 


DEUS EX MAC II IN A. 


205 


was too much. I am better now,” and she tried to 
smile through her tears. 

Winthrop was in no whit deceived by Belle’s 
watery smile, for, having known her from a child, 
he was persuaded that it was no slight matter that 
had wrung from her that despairing “Take me 
home!” Besides, her pale cheeks and heavy eyes 
told their own tale. He judged it best to allow her 
to regain her composure before pressing her to con- 
fide her troubles to him; but he made up his mind 
to find out the whole story. He applied himself 
for the moment, however, to answer all Belle’s eager 
questions about home; and thankful enough was he 
that all the news he had to tell was good. Her 
Uncle G-rav’s family were all in good health, and her 
Aunt Sarah longed to see her dear niece again. 
Balph was working away bravely, seconded by his 
cheery little wife, and hoped soon to retrieve his 
losses. After half an hour spent in delightful 
home-talk, Belle had grown calm and cheerful 
again, and Henry said: 

“ Don ’t you think, Belle, that you have borne 
your share of the heat and burden of the day, and 
that you had better come home to us all again?” 

Belle’s gray eyes grew wistful as she answered: 
“At all events, I must leave my present situation.” 

Winthrop remained silent, anxious to hear more. 

“Henry,” she continued, “I am afraid that I 


206 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


miscalculated my strength,” and then she stopped 
again. 

“ I think it more likely you have been tried be- 
yond it,” answered the young man. 

u Perhaps so; at all events, I see now that it was 
rash for a girl brought up as I have been to accept 
a dependent’s position in this country.” 

Winthrop said simply: “ Your miscalculation, if 
you choose to call it so, does you honor; and that’s 
more than can be said of most people’s mistakes. 
But I wish you would be a little more explicit; why 
do you wish to leave your present situation?” 

“ I have been unfortunate in the family with 
whom my lot has been cast,” returned the girl, eva- 
sively. 

“Do you wish to leave immediately?” 

“ As soon as I can conveniently.” 

“ I hope, Belle, that you are not keeping from me 
anything that I should know. I make this appeal 
on the ground of our old family friendship.” 

“Your coming will be a great help to me as it 
is, and I will consult you about my future plans,” 
she said, with a smile. 

With this assurance Winthrop was fain to be 
content for the, moment. “ Before I leave,” he 
said, “ I suppose I must ask for the lady of the 
house, Madame de Heuze — is not that her name? 
Do you like her? ” 


DEUS EX MAC HINA. 


207 


“Very much, indeed,” answered Belle warmly. 

“ How comes it that you are staying here?” 
asked Winthrop. 

“ Madame de Heuze is cousin to Madame Masson, 
the lady with whom I am living.” 

The hard look that crossed Belle’s face, as she 
mentioned Madame Masson’s name, did not escape 
Winthrop. “Shall I ring and ask to see her?” he 
inquired. 

“ No; I’ll go for her.” 

“ Come back with her then, for I want you to 
introduce me.” 

Belle nodded assent, and left the room in search 
of Madame de Heuze. 

Belle’s prolonged stay in the drawing-room had 
excited Madame de Heuze’s curiosity. Belle found 
her in Madame Paul’s boudoir, whither she had 
gone to have a little gossip with her niece about 
late events, and to acquaint her with the Ameri- 
can’s visit. One glance at Belle’s tell-tale face, as 
she softly entered the room and delivered Win- 
throp’s message, convinced both ladies that her 
visitor had been welcome. 

“Mr. Winthrop, an old friend of mine, is in the 
drawing-room, Madame, and would like to speak 
with you.” 

Madame de Heuze was rather at a loss to know 
what the nature of the conversation would be; she 


208 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


had even some misgivings as she accompanied Belle 
to the drawing-room. 

Winthrop rose as the ladies entered, and looked 
at Belle to introduce him, which she did with the 
graceful simplicity natural to her. 

“You have forestalled my husband, Monsieir,” 
said Madame de Heuze. “ He has gone to Roche- 
fort to call on you.” 

Belle looked surprised. “I did not know that 
you knew the Baron de Heuze, Henry.” 

“The brother of an old friend of mine, Monsieur 
de Nononcourt, was kind enough to introduce me 
to the Baron de Heuze at Rochefort, where I arrived 
yesterday morning,” said Winthrop to Belle; and 
then he added, addressing the Baroness, “ I did not 
know, when Monsieur de Heuze invited me to call 
on him, that I should find an old friend here. Miss 
Adams’s nearest relatives, Mr. and Mrs. Gray, of 
Boston, are my mother’s oldest and dearest friends; 
while her brother Ralph and I were classmates at 
college.” 

Winthrop exerted himself to make a good im- 
pression on the Baroness, in whom he recognized a 
thorough lady. He gave a very animated account 
of his late trip to Scotland, to which the ladies lis- 
tened with pleased attention. Not caring to pro- 
long unreasonably his first visit at a stranger’s 
house, Winthrop rose to take his leave, expressing 
his regret at missing the Baron de Heuze, and tell- 


DEVS EX MAC HINA. 


209 


ing Belle that he was at Rochefort for an indefinite 
time, and entirely at her service. Madame de 
Heuze protested with such evident sincerity against 
his leaving before luncheon, that he consented to 
remain, tempted chiefly by the desire to ^ind out 
the exact cause of Belle’s tears. Winthrop was 
introduced to the other ladies and to Monsieur Paul, 
and he tried to win everybody’s good-will for Belle’s 
sake. He succeeded; the ladies voted him charm- 
ing, and Monsieur Paul was pleased to bestow his 
grave approbation upon him. Belle sat listening 
to her friend’s voice in happy silence; was he so 
changed, or was she, that the sound of his frank ? 
kind voice meant so much more to her now? After 
luncheon, Madame de Heuze proposed a short walk 
across the park, before Winthrop left them. The 
young American found himself between Belle and 
Oda, whose bright conversation would really have 
interested him as much as it appeared to do, had his 
mind not been disturbed by an undercurrent of anx- 
ious thought about Belle. The young ladies 
pointed out the different objects of interest, the 
swans, the gigantic red beech, the grove of pines, 
Belle’s especial delight, and a magnificent heron 
that Oda’s quick eyes detected winging its heavy 
wav over a neighboring lake. Before they reached 
the house, Winthrop had managed to secure a 
few moment’s conversation with the Baroness. 

14 


210 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“ Miss Adams’s friends in Boston admire her very 
much for the courage she is showing,” he began. 
“ It is a great deal for a girl brought up as she has 
been to undertake.” 

Winthrop was distinctly a gentleman; his man- 
ners designated him as having lived among culti- 
vated people. His deferential demeanor toward 
Belle, together with his assertion of intimacy in her 
aunt’s family, was a revelation to the Baroness, who 
had not failed to recognize that Belle was a lady, 
but who was hardly prepared to find that her little 
protegee was a princess in disguise, as it were. 
Winthrop’s last remark consequently embarrassed 
her not a little. She knew it was made with a 
purpose, but she was ignorant of how much Belle 
had told her friend. 

“We have unfortunately much less generosity of 
sentiment in this country,” she ventured; “at least 
we look at things differently. I can not but think 
that it was something of a risk for a girl in Mees 
Adams’s position to have taken a dependent’s situa- 
tion among my worthy but somewhat obtuse com- 
patriots.” 

“Belle is too sensible a girl not to have accepted 
a position once taken up, or to have exacted or ex- 
pected as a governess in a foreign country the 
consideration that has been hers all her life,” 
returned the young man; “though it seems to me, 


DEUS EX MACHINA. 


211 


Madame, that a lady should he to a certain extent 
sure of her reception in any country.” 

“ I, myself, have never doubted Mees Adams,” 
said the Baroness. The moment the words had 
passed her lips she wished them unsaid. 

Winthrop’s brows contracted, and he asked coldly: 
“Do you mean to imply, Madame, that anyone has 
doubted Miss Adams? ” 

“ She has told him nothing,” thought the Baron- 
ess, and then she said aloud : “ It would not become 

me, Monsieur, to reveal what the person most in- 
terested has had the discretion to conceal, more 
especially as those of whom she might justly com- 
plain are my relations and my guests. I can assure 
you, however, that I and my husband hhve the 
greatest esteem and affection for Mees Adams, and 
have done all in our power to shield and protect 
her.” The Baroness made her little speech with 
dignity, and Winthrop replied with courtesy: 

“ If Miss Adams is slow to complain, at least she 
is not to praise, and I have already heard from her 
lips a grateful acknowledgment of your kindness.” 

“The dear child,” said the Baroness, tenderly; 
“ she has a lovely disposition. I think, Monsieur,” 
she continued, “ it would be better that she should 
return to her friends.” 

“ I quite agree with you,” returned the young 
man; “and I shall use my influence to induce her 


212 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


to do so.” So speaking, they readied the house, 
where the others joined them. Winthrop prepared 
to take his leave, the Baroness and Belle accom- 
panying him to the hall-door. 

“Have you seen Frances Prentiss, Henry, since 
your arrival in this country ?” inquired Belle. 

“Ho, but I met Prentiss in London, and he told 
me that he and his wife would be in Blankenburg 
this month.” 

“So near! They can not be coming to see me, 
at all events,” said Belle, “ for I have neglected 
Frances shamefully lately. When shall I see you 
again, Henry ? ” 

“ I will return in a day or two, with Madame de 
HeuzeV permission.” 

Madame de Heuze said her husband was most 
anxious that Monsieur Winthrop should dine with 
them on an early day. Winthrop bowed his thanks, 
took leave of the two ladies, and was driven away. 

The Eochefort party returned late, and had only 
time to make such changes in their toilettes as a 
long drive necessitated. The Baroness followed 
her husband to his dressing-room. 

“We did not find Monsieur Winthrop. Old 
Biron told us that he had driven to Montfaucon. 
Was he here?” asked the Baron. 

“Yes, and he remained to luncheon; but whom 
do you suppose he came to see ? ” 


DEUS EX MACHINA. 


213 


“ Why, me, as you had had no opportunity of en- 
tangling him in your net, Madame,” returned her 
husband, laughing. 

“ There you are wrong, Anatole ; he came to see 
Mees.” And the Baroness related, as briefly as 
possible, the occurrences of the day. 

“Well, if this is not an absurd affair! What a 
rage the Massons will be in! Poor old Masson 
was so disappointed at finding the stranger out; 
made such a point of leaving his card with his ad- 
dress at Huy, and Adolphe’s, too;” and the Baron 
burst into a boyish laugh at the absurdity of the 
situation. 

His laugh was so infectious that his wife joined 
in. 

“ You had better straighten out your face, my 
dear, for I warn you that I shall be on a broad grin 
all dinner-time. Whenever I look at poor Masson 
and think of his anxiety to leave his card, I shall 
not be able to control myself.” • 

“ How, Anatole,” began his wife, in a tone of 
entreaty, “pray be careful; think of their feel- 
ings.” Ho one had better command over his fea- 
tures than the Baron de Heuze; but he loved to 
tease his wife and hear her beseeching, “ How, An- 
atole.” 

When the party met at dinner, the Massons and 
Adolphe were the only persons ignorant of the 


214 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


turn affairs had taken. Monsieur Masson had not 
recovered from his disappointment at not having 
seen Monsieur Winthrop. 

“We were even more unfortunate than we 
thought, Masson,” said the Baron; “had we re- 
mained at home we should have seen the lion — it 
seems that he has been here to-day and lunched with 
the ladies.” 

“ How very vexatious! ” exclaimed Monsieur Mas- 
son, his round face lengthening; and turning to 
Madame de Heuze, he asked: “What did you 
think of him? ” 

“ He captivated ns all,” answered the lady warmly. 
Then she hesitated, casting about in her own mind 
for the best means of bringing her guests out of 
their false position, without shocking their suscepti- 
bilities too much. 

Monsieur Paul, who was not so considerate of 
the Massons’ feelings, observed: 

“ I think Mees Adams is the person best qualified 
to furnish us with information respecting the Amer- 
ican gentleman. As it turns out, Uncle Masson, he 
is a very old family friend, and his visit here this 
morning was to Mees.” 

The bomb had fallen; Madame de Heuze saw 
that there was no help for it. 

Belle bent her blushing face over her plate. She 
would have carried her head high enough if things 
had gone the other way with her. 


DEUS EX MAC HINA. 


215 


Monsieur Masson sat staring at Monsieur Paul, 
apparently petrified in the act of carrying a spoon- 
ful of soup to his mouth. Madame Masson glanced 
involuntarityat Madame de Heuze for confirmation 
of the unwelcome news, but that lady also kept her 
eyes fixed on her plate. Adolphe flushed scarlet, 
and glanced uneasily at Belle’s tell-tale face. Louise 
commenced to quarrel with Gustave. 

“Hold your tongue. Mademoiselle!” said her 
mother, impatiently, much to that young lady’s sur- 
prise. 

“ Do you know Monsieur W inthrop, Mees ?” asked 
Monsieur Masson, timidly. 

“ Yes, sir,” answered Belle, meekly. 

“Why could you not have said so at once? I 
hate mysteries,” said Madame Masson. 

Belle made no answer, and the conversation 
flagged. 

“ Paul,” said the Baroness, as they went out 
from dinner, “ will you not take Mees Adams for a 
row on the lake? Do not go without a shawl, my 
dear; it is chilly to-night. You know I must take 
great care of you, as you are my charge now.” 

This was said in the hearing of the whole party. 
Madame Masson stared, but said nothing; she felt 
that the tables were being completely turned upon 
her; but what could she do? 

Belle went out with Monsieur Paul, after the 


216 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


Baron had congratulated her on meeting an old 
friend so far from home, and the Baroness had 
carefully wrapped her up in the shawl. Madame 
Masson could with difficulty submit to the humilia- 
tion of the sitution. She sought out simple-hearted 
Madame Paul, thinking her the best person to com- 
mence with in telling the tale she desired to weave 
concerning Leopoldine, who was now “a snake in 
the grass,” “ an adder in the path,” etc. She conclu- 
ded with the following pathetic sentence, that deeply 
affected Madame Paul: “ Of course, Hortense, you 
quite understand that I meant no harm to poor 
Mees, but I feel for Adolphe as a mother; you 
know how over-anxious is le ceur d'une mere” 

The evening being damp and chilly, Belle came 
in early with Monsieur Paul. Madame Masson left 
the drawing-room to put Louise to bed. Oda was 
playing a brilliant rondo on the grand piano, and 
Monsieur Paul was soon deep in the “ Revue de 
Belgique .” Madame de Heuze and Belie sat to- 
gether on the sofa, and indulged in a confidential 
chat. The Baroness adored a love affair, and she 
had hoped to draw Belle out to talk about 
Winthrop; for, with her usual acuteness, she had 
discovered that there was more than friendship 
there, on the young man’s side at least. But Belle 
was mute on that subject, though, she talked to 
her kind friend openly enough about her family, 


DEUS EX MAC HINA. 


217 


her surroundings, and her life in Boston. They 
were so engrossed in their conversation, that Oda 
slipped off to her room unperceived by either of 
them; neither did they notice when the Baron came 
softly into the room and motioned to Monsieur 
Paul to come out with him, saying in a low voice: 

“I say, Paul, come with me to the dining-room, 
and help me out with Adolphe; that’s a good 
fellow ! ” 

“What is the matter with him?” frowningly 
asked Monsieur Paul, who did not like hems' dis- 
turbed to perform any service for Adolphe Spier- 
ley, who was his pet aversion. 

“ He has been going on in a wild way about 
Mees Adams; he seems to have been more in love 
than we imagined.” 

“Bah!” growled Paul Masson. 

“ At first he stormed and raved, and said that 
every one was in league against him, and that he 
had never liked any girl as well as he did Mees 
Adams, and never should again. Your Uncle Mas- 
son was at his wits’ end — no long journey; and 
iVdolphe, who fancies no 'woman can resist him, 
was for going at once to Mees, and becoming en- 
gaged to her out of hand. The arrival of the Amer- 
ican has frightened him.” 

“ What nonsense ! ” exclaimed Monsieur Paul. 

“ Come out of the drawing-room,” said the Baron, 


218 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


“ and I ’ll tell you the rest.” The gentlemen left the 
drawing-room together, and the Baron concluded 
his speech as they stood in the hall: “After a 
great deal of coaxing, I had succeeded in persuad- 
ing Adolphe to wait until the morning, when Hu- 
bert sent word to ask if he could speak to me for 
a moment on a matter of importance. I went 
out, leaving the uncle and nephew together for just 
ten minutes. By the time I had returned, Adolphe 
had commenced to drink, and there was no doing 
anything with him. Your uncle followed suit. 
There they are, weeping and drinking by turns.” 

“ So this is the young man whose will is to be 
law to all about him? At the first disappointment 
he flies to the brandy-bottle! ” said Paul Masson. 

“ I believe he is harder hit than you think, Paul ; 
he is quite cut up.” 

“ That ’s an absurdity,” answered Monsieur Paul. 
The Baron de Henze, very much of a grand seig- 
neur, would have been mortally offended had anyone 
else answered him in so cavalier a fashion, but “ ce 
cher Paul ” was a privileged character; so the 
Baron simply shrugged his shoulders, and his 
nephew continued : 

“ Has not the handsome Adolphe already been 
the hero of eight or ten love affairs? Like all spoilt 
children who wish for a new toy, he fancies noth- 
ing else will satisfy him; that is all his disappoint- 


DECS EX MAC HINA. 


219 


ment amounts to. Do you tliink he is capable of 
appreciating Mees’s superior mind or her moral 
rectitude? Do you believe he will appreciate that 
child Oda after he has been married to her for six 
months? He is a selfish, sensual fellow, and is cer- 
tain to bring misfortune wherever he goes. The 
less people have to do with him the better for 
them.” 

“ Well, have your own opinion about it, only come 
and help me get him to bed,” said the Baron, laugh- 
ing. “ I do not like the servants to witness these 
scenes, for it makes gossip in the village.” 

By the joint exertions of Monsieur de Henze and 
his nephew, Monsieur Masson and Adolphe were 
persuaded to go quietly up-stairs without disturb- 
ing the household. Ho one could have been more 
patient or more impassive than was Paul Masson. 
He sat down by Adolphe, coaxed and quieted him, 
and faithfully seconded the Baron in the task of 
conveying the desperate lover to his apartment. 
Adolphe muttered something about marrying 
V Americaine to-morrow, as they were helping him 
up stairs, and Monsieur Masson somewhat impeded 
progress by stopping every few steps to embrace 
his nephew or wring his hands, under the delusion 
that he was in some great trouble. 

The Baron and Monsieur Paul went out on 
the perron to breathe the fresh night air. The 


220 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


clouds had cleared away; the trees were whispering 
together in the shining moonlight; the courtyard 
lay in deep shadow, and the soft light streamed 
down on the arched gateway, bringing out its bold 
and graceful outline and hiding the inroads that 
time had made in its massive stonework. The sol- 
emn peace of nature contrasted strongly with the 
scene they had left, and both gentlemen stood silent. 
The Baron looked up at the blue vault above, and 
said with a sigh — for, to the delight of his wife, he 
would sometimes make sentimental speeches: 

“ When shall we have in social life the beauty 
and harmony that the natural world shows us? ” 

“ It will be a step toward it when selfish sensual- 
ists cease to prey upon society,” answered Monsieur 
Paul, dryly. 

The moon’s fair radiance, that illumined the 
Montfaucon grounds, also lighted up a solitary fig- 
ure walking up and down before the old-fashioned 
inn at Kochefort, called Biron’s Hotel. Winthrop’s 
thoughts were busy with Belle, and with the best 
means of getting her out of her evidently false po- 
sition. He went over in his own mind every detail 
of his visit to Montfaucon. Again Belle’s sad face 
rose up before him, and he heard her imploring 
“ Take me home; ” again he dwelt, with a throb of 
delight and hope, on the remembrance of the eager, 
tremulous joy that lighted up her face at the sight 


LEVS EX MACH IN A. 


221 


of him, losing himself in a long and happy rev- 
erie. The necessity of deciding on a course of ac- 
tion that should place the young girl who had long 
been dear to him in her right position before the 
people with whom she had been living, roused 
him from his happy musings, and turned his 
thoughts into another channel. Belle’s inquiry re- 
specting Mrs. Prentiss came to his mind to help 
him out of the difficulty. “ That ’s it,” he said to 
himself; “ I’ll send for Frances Prentiss. I know 
she ’ll come. I can trust her quick wit and good 
sense, and she’s devoted to Belle. If I write to- 
night she can be here Monday night, and Tuesday 
morning we will descend upon Montfaucon and 
bear Belle off with flying colors. I ’ll ask her to 
telegraph her answer, and I ’ll not go to Montfaucon 
again until my reinforcements arrive.” Winthrop 
had lived enough abroad to know that only a mar- 
ried woman of recognized social position would be 
accepted among foreigners as an undisputed voucher 
for a young girl. He went in, wrote his letter, gave 
directions that it was to leave by the early post, and 
retired to rest, satisfied, all things considered, with 
the events of the day. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

A RETREAT WITH THE HONORS OF WAR. 

The next morning, the Baron was np early and 
on the look-out for Adolphe, whom he found cross 
and low-spirited, but minded to keep to his resolu- 
tion of the night before and offer himself to Belle. 
After some coaxing, he persuaded the willful 
young fellow to postpone his project for the pres- 
ent and to leave Montfaucon. The Baron’s argu- 
ments were these: Adolphe had seen for himself 
that all attentions but honorable ones were out of the 
question in Belle’s case; he had hurt the young girl’s 
feelings and roused her indignation by his past con- 
duct, and if he were to have any success in the future 
— a fact which the Baron was by no means sure of — 
his only chance was to absent himself for a time and 
leave Mees Adams’s just resentment time to cool. 
The Baron was so persistent in urging the young man 
to leave immediately, that Adolphe finally consented 
to be guided by his advice, and Monsieur de Heuze 
agreed to drive him over to Marloie to take the 
morning train. All the party, excepting Oda, were 
( 222 ) 


A RETREAT WITH THE HONORS OF WAR. 223 


gathered on the porch to see him off. The young 
man wrung the hand Belle kindly held out to him in 
silence, without glancing at her face, then jumped 
into the dog-cart, looking neither to the right hand 
nor to the left. The Baron gathered up the reins 
and they were on the point of starting, when Louise 
rushed down the steps toward the dog-cart, exclaim- 
ing reproachfully: “ Adolphe, Adolphe, art thou 
going without saying good-bye to me? ” The Baron 
slackened the reins he had just gathered up, and 
Louise stood panting by the carriage, with tearful 
eyes. Adolphe was emotional, and his eyes filled 
in sympathy. He descended from his seat, kissed 
his young cousin tenderly on both cheeks as he 
said in a half-choked voice: “ There, there, pauvre 
j petite.” 

“At all events some one is sorry that I am going,” 
he said to the Baron, as they drove off. The Baron 
made no answer. This little scene in the court- 
yard made an impression on Madame Masson that 
was destined to bear fruit later. 

It was certainly a relief to have Adolphe gone — 
it was a disturbing element out of the way; but 
the Massons’ position was not entirely a pleasant 
one, and Madame told her husband that she would 
gladly hasten their departure by a few days, as it 
appeared that Belle was to remain a guest at the 
house until her future plans were decided on. 


224 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


Monsieur Masson was quite willing to go. For tlie 
moment lie was seriously annoyed with his wife. 
What a chance he had lost! What a fine thing it 
would have been for him to have a lion to show 
to his friends in the person of a rich American! 
He would have given him a dinner in Brussels and 
have presented him in triumph at his club; the 
American would have been impressed with his 
wealth and social importance; his acquaintances^ 
with his distinguished relations a Vetranger. His 
wife, by her foolish suspicions, had rendered the 
realization of all these delightful anticipations im- 
possible, and had made herself and him ridiculous 
besides; and so he told her very bluntly, and in no 
choice language. Madame Masson retorted, with 
, some show of reason, by asking whose fault it was 
that she was suspicious?’ She was an innocent- 
hearted girl when she married him. Who had 
taught her to see evil everywhere? Who had trifled 
with her feelings and poisoned for her the most 
sacred ties of humanity? Overcome by her present 
annoyances and the remembrance of her past trials, 
the poor woman burst into a passion of angry tears. 
Rather alarmed at this outburst, for it had been 
years since his wife had deigned to weep in his 
presence, Monsieur Masson stole quietly out of 
the room, and when in the hall shook his head 
mournfully, as if to say: “It is true, I have been 


A RETREAT WITH THE HONORS OF WAR. 225 


but a sad dog!” And then, as it was Sunday, he 
went to offer his escort to Madame de Heuze for 
church, seeing the Baron had gone to Marloie. 

Madame Masson was to be pitied at that mo- 
ment; Adolphe’s indifference to her at parting had 
deeply wounded her; if she had a weak place in her 
heart for anyone excepting Louise, it was certainly 
for her nephew, and his “ base ingratitude ” cut her 
to the heart. Having attended Low Mass with 
Oda Spierley, she remained in her own room until 
the others came home from the later service; then 
she sent Louise to bid Leopoldine come to her. 
The woman soon made her appearance, with a con- 
fident smirk on her face that disappeared the in- 
stant she glanced at Madame’s countenance, for the 
expression depicted thereon would have struck ter- 
ror to a bolder heart than that of a time-serving de- 
pendent. 

“ Mademoiselle,” began Madame, severely, “I 
have every reason to believe that you grossly ex- 
aggerated an unsolicited report, causing me to com- 
mit an injustice toward a most estimable young 
lady. I owe it to her, as well as to myself, to tell 
who my informant was.” 

For a moment Leopoldine was thunderstruck, 
but when she recovered speech she was very volu- 
ble. Madame had questioned her; Madame had 
told her to watch; Madame had given her money; 
15 


226 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


Madame had seemed much pleased at her zeal for 
her young lady’s interests; surely Madame was not 
going to turn against her now? 

But that was just what Madame intended to do, 
and poor Leopoldine was to be a cat’s-paw, like many 
another foolish tale-bearer. Madame’s only reply 
was: 

“ Will you hold your tongue? Bid you come to 
me of your own accord, or not? ” 

“ Madame gave me money,” persisted the woman, 
who knew her advantage on this point, and 
pressed it. 

“ I did not give you money to bring me false 
reports,” said Madame, at a venture. 

The random shot told home, as random shots 
sometimes do; and Leopoldine sobbed out, her 
apron to her eyes: 

“ If I did say embrace when it was only her 
hand that he kissed, when one is in a hurry and 
confused one does not always weigh one’s words.” 

Madame had now the advantage of the unlucky 
Abigail, and beautiful was her righteous indigna- 
tion at the vile calumnies against that “ poor young 
girl,” to which she had unwittingly lent a hand. 
Her dear niece Oda should not keep such a serpent 
about her; the maid should be turned away for 
slander. 

“As Madame pleases,” answered the girl, who 


A RETREAT WITH THE HONORS OF WAR. 227 


was sharp enough to see that utter self-abasement 
would do her no good; “ but I am a poor girl and 
have only my character, and if Madame tries to 
ruin me I shall defend myself.” 

“ How foolish I was to give her that five francs,” 
thought Madame; and then she said aloud, after a 
moment’s consideration, u As you say that you were 
guided by zeal for your mistress, I will not be too 
hard upon you, though I owe it to Mees and my- 
self to say that you thought it your duty to mention 
something that you saw occur between Mon- 
sieur Adolphe and Mees, but that unfortunately 
you exaggerated the matter.” 

This arrangement left Madame with a very wide 
margin, but Leopoldine was fain to be content witli 
it; so she courtesied herself out of the room, thank- 
ing Madame profusely for her consideration. She 
did not remain long with Oda Spierley, for Madame 
de Ileuze advised Oda to send her oft* as soon as a 
decent pretext offered itself. “ It is always an im- 
prudence to retain an eavesdropper in one’s service,” 
said the Baroness. 

After a happy morning spent in her own room, 
Belle wandered down into the garden. She was 
just returning from her favorite walk to the pine 
grove, when she met Monsieur Masson on his way 
from the fruit garden, carrying a fine peach on a 
grape leaf. This trophy he presented to Belle with 


228 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


a smile, saying, in a confidential tone: “ It is a pity, 
Mees, that my poor wife is so ill-tempered.” Belle 
could not deny this proposition, but not caring to 
join with Monsieur in abusing his wife, she re- 
mained silent. “ You see,” continued the stout 
man, with a significant roll of his eyes, “ I have 
given my wife some cause to be jealous; so it is 
not surprising that a young and pretty girl like 
yourself should excite her malevolence.” Belle was 
overcome with laughter at this extraordinary speech, 
for Monsieur’s winks would not have been entirely 
lost upon a babe in arms, so patent were they. 

Monsieur Masson smiled delightedly in return, 
and again presented the peach, which Belle took ; 
upon which he walked jauntily back to the house 
and told Monsieur Paul (the first person he met) 
that he had helped his wife out of that unpleasant 
affair with Mees, and that there would be no more 
trouble about it. Madame Masson kept her room 
for the rest of the day with a migraine , and the 
Sunday passed quietly over. 

Monday noon, a special messenger arrived from 
Rochefort, bringing a note to Belle from Winthrop, 
in which he told her that Mr. and Mrs. Prentiss would 
arrive in Rochefort that evening, and that he should 
bring them over to Montfaucon sometime on Tues- 
day; he himself was to dine Monday at the Non- 
oncourts. 


A RETREAT WITH THE HONORS OF WAR. 229 


On receiving Winthrop’s letter Sunday evening 
at the Hotel des Phares, at Blankenburg, Mrs. 
Prentiss carried it to her husband, saying, “ Please 
read this letter from Henry Winthrop, Tom.” 

Mr. Thomas Prentiss was an Englishman, who 
had resided in the States during the best part of 
his life, and had married an American woman. It is 
almost superfluous to add that he was still an un- 
mitigated Englishman. He read the letter his 

CD CD 

wife handed him slowly twice over, and then laid it 
down with an annoyed expression of countenance, 
for he was not fond of changes in his programme, 
and he saw one impending. 

“ Henry does not say what the nature of the 
trouble is that Miss Adams is in,” he said at last; 
“he should have been more explicit. How can 
you tell for certain that you can do any good by 
going to her?” 

“ I think I should go, Tom, whether I am certain 
of doing any good or not. I can make the effort, 
you know.” 

Mr. Prentiss gave a few meditative puffs at his 
cigar, and then said, “ How soon do you want to 
go, Frances? ” 

“ From what Henry says, I ought to go as soon 
as possible. You see, dear,” she continued, “I ought 
to go if I can do Belle any good; you know what 
great obligations I am under to Mrs. Gray.” 


230 


BELGIAN DAYS . 


Mr. Prentiss was not the man to repudiate an 
obligation under any circumstances, and in this 
case his little annoyance arose rather from a dislike 
to overturn already formed plans than from any 
objection he had to his wife’s going to Rochefort. 

After a moment’s silence, Mrs. Prentiss spoke 
again: “I suppose by leaving here to-morrow 
morning at a reasonable hour we could reach Roche- 
fort before night.” 

“ We? ” exclaimed her husband, aghast. “ Why, 
my dear, there’s no need for me to go; and it would 
be most uncivil to the Sullivans if neither of us 
join in the yachting-party, after having helped get 
it up.” 

“The Sullivans will have to get on without us,” 
answered Mrs. Prentiss. “ My first duty, in this 
case, is to Belle, and your first duty is always to 
me.” This last she said archly, nodding gaily at 
her husband. Then she continued more seriously: 
“ I see by Henry’s letter that I am needed to vouch 
for Belle’s social position ” — Mr. Prentiss opened 
his eyes to their widest extent — “and you must 
come to vouch for me.” 

“Give me my Bradshaw, Frances,” said Mr. 
Prentiss with a sigh, after a moment’s silence; and 
then his wife knew that he would accompany her 
to Rochefort. This summons to Rochefort was 
most unexpected to Mrs. Prentiss. Belle’s letters 


A RETREAT WITH THE HONORS OF WAR. 231 


had never contained the slightest hint that she was 
unhappy or in any need ot' aid or protection, and 
while Frances Prentiss was prepared to leave every- 
thing and fly to her friend in trouble, she rather 
resented her being in that situation. Had she not 
said from the first that it was a foolish move? The 
idea of a refined American girl like Belle going 
out as a governess in a foreign country! of course 
she would get into a hobble. So saying to herself, 
Mrs. Prentiss instructed her maid to pack her most 
effective costume from Worth’s, with a view to 
make use of it to blight Belle’s enemies. Hardly 
were her preparations completed, when her husband 
came into the room, his face wearing an air of re- 
stored cheerfulness, to tell her that he had mapped 
the route all out, and that he would telegraph to 
Winthrop when to expect them. 

Tuesday afternoon, a carriage containing a lady 
and two gentlemen was bowling smoothly along 
the road from Rochefort to Montfaucon. Mrs, 
Prentiss, to her husband’s and Winthrop’s great 
amusement, was elegantly gotten up. Every de- 
tail of her dress had cost her as much thought as 
if she had been going to her first ball. She even 
held a little dress-parade for Winthrop’s and her 
husband’s benefit before leaving the Biron hotel, that 
had not entertained so elegant a guest since the nev- 
er-to-be-forgotten days of “ the Russian Princess,” 


232 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


Mrs. Prentiss and Wintkrop had liad a long chat 
that morning, sitting under some shade trees in 
front of the hotel, while Mr. Prentiss went out “ to 
see the country,” as he said. Winthrop told his ally 
all he knew of the evident trouble Belle was in, and 
he confided to her, moreover, that he had come to 
Belgium for the express purpose of making an 
offer of his heart and hand, should Belle’s recep- 
tion of him warrant him in believing that it would 
be accepted; he added that he felt encouraged to 
hope that Belle was not indifferent to him. “ Of 
course, Mrs. Prentiss, I am very anxious Belle 
should make up her mind to return home,” said 
the young man in conclusion; “and I think her 
aunt and uncle Gray would feel with me, if they 
knew as much about foreign life as I do.” 

“I disapproved of Belle’s going out as a gover- 
ness from the first, Henry,” said Mrs. Prentiss, 
“though I did not do my utmost to prevent it in 
Paris, for I think it is always better people should 
see for themselves, and I knew there was nothing 
serious to fear in the case of a girl like Belle.” 

“ Well, now that she has seen for herself, will 
you not use your influence to persuade her to re- 
turn with you and Mr. Prentiss in the fall? ” 

“ I do not think she will need much persuasion — 
home, and friends, and . . . .” 

“ A devoted husband, if she will accept him, ” 
interrupted Winthrop, finishing the sentence. 


A BE TREAT WITH THE HONORS OF WAR. 233 


There was a great deal of curiosity felt at Mont- 
laucon regarding the arrival of Belle’s friends, the 
Prentisses. “ Mees Adams ” had been rather a cyn- 
osure to the Montfaucon party during the past 
week or two, and every turn in the tide of her 
affairs was watched with interest. 

Madame Paul was peeping through the blinds 
in the Baroness’ room, when the Rochefort party 
drew up. “Here they are,” she exclaimed, “ Mon- 
sieur "Winthrop, another gentleman, and a lady 
— look Oda; do come and look, aunt ! ” 

Mrs. Prentiss asked to see Miss Adams, and 
Belle lost not a moment in repairing to the draw- 
ing-room. Frances Prentiss noted in silence how 
much thinner and paler Belle had grown, and that 
she had lost something of her old eagerness. 

“ Belle,” she said, when the first greetings were 
over, “Tom and I have come to this wretched lit- 
tle Rochefort for the express purpose of taking you 
back to Blankenburg with us, where there are some 
very nice English people, and where you will have 
a lovely time.” As her friend had not been happy 
in Belgium, Mrs. Prentiss chose to speak of that 
kingdom as a benighted and god-forsaken country; 
this was her mode of revenge. 

“You must come back with us, Miss Adams, as 
Frances says,” observed Mr. Thomas Prentiss; 
you are not looking at all well, and the sea-air 


234 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


will set you up again. Winthrop is coming with 
us,” added Mr. Prentiss, as though that should 
settle the question. Belle blushed faintly, and 
murmured something about their all being very 
kind; and then she turned the conversation by ex- 
claiming, “How gorgeous you are, Frances!” 

“ : A11 for your benefit, my dear. I suppose you 
are prepared to go back to Rochefort with us! ” 

“ I should enjoy it above all things; but first you 
will see my dear Baroness, will you not? ” 

“That is what I came for,” answered Mrs. Pren- 
tiss, dryly. 

“She is so nice, Frances, and she has been so 
good to me, and so has Madame Paul. You must 
see Oda Spierley, Mr. Prentiss, a charming Bel- 
gian girl.” 

“ Is Madame Paul the lady with whom you have 
been living? ” asked Mrs. Prentiss hypocritically. 

“Oh, no,” answered Belle quickly. “I have 
been living with a Madame Masson-Spierley, but 
my connection with her ceased a day or two since, 
and now I am free again.” 

“ Oh,” said Mrs. Prentiss. 

“ Shall I tell the Baroness you ’d like to see her, 
Frances? ” 

“ I should like to see them all,” answered Mrs. 
Prentiss calmly, “especially Madame Masson- 
Spierley, if she will come.” 


A RETREAT WITH THE HONORS OF WAR. 235 


Belle left the room, and returned in a few mo- 
ments with Madame de Ileuze, Madame Paul, and 
Oda Spierley. 

The Baroness took a seat by Mrs. Prentiss, Oda 
Spierley seated herself by Mr. Prentiss, while 
Madame Paul placed herself in Winthrop’s vicin- 
ity,, preferring to talk to him, having seen him be- 
fore. Winthrop found her conversation very inter- 
esting, for she talked incessantly of Belle, nor were 
her praises of Belle’s fortitude, patience and sweet- 
ness stinted. 

In the meantime, Mrs. Prentiss and the Baron- 
ess were having a very gracious interview on the 
sofa. “I have come to carry off my little compa- 
triot, Madame,” said Mrs. Prentiss. “ We shall 
take her to Blankenburg for the sea air. I am 
uneasy to see the dear girl looking so pale, and 
I should never dare face her aunt and uncle Gray, 
and her hosts of dear friends in Boston, if I had 
not looked after her properly.” 

Madame de Henze agreed with Mrs. Prentiss that 
a few weeks by the sea would do Belle good. 

“I feel an additional responsibility about the 
matter,” continued Mrs. Prentiss, “for though I 
did not encourage Belle to take a governess’ posi- 
tion, but the contrary, still it was through my in- 
strumentality that she came to Belgium. I was in 
Brussels at school as a girl, and I thought that my 


230 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


experience quite justified me in advising Belle to 
go to Belgium, since go somewhere she would.” 

Madame de Heuze colored faintly; Mrs. Pren- 
tiss’ remark was tantamount to saying, “ I find that 
I have been mistaken in your countrymen, Ma- 
dame.” Frances Prentiss was determined to fire 
this little shot. 

The entrance of her husband, accompanied by 
Monsieur Paul, relieved the Baroness from the ne- 
cessity of answering, and she hastened to introduce 
the new-comers to Mr. and Mrs. Prentiss. The 
Baroness vacated her seat in favor of her husband, 
and slipped over to Winthrop’s side. Oda took a 
vacant chair near Mrs. Prentiss, attracted by the 
little dash of unconventionality that gave piquancy 
to her manners. 

The Baroness proposed a walk, and her visitors cor- 
dially admired the beautiful Montfaucon grounds. 

“ This reminds me of an English place, Frances,” 
said Mr. Prentiss. 

A turn in the path that bordered the lake brought 
them face to face with Monsieur Masson, who was 
gazing abstractedly at some fish playing in the 
water; he started almost too perceptibly as the 
party came up, lifted his hat, and, of course, was 
introduced to the Americans. Mrs. Prentiss did 
not catch his name. 

“ Who is your fat friend?” she whispered laugh- 
ingly to Belle. 


A RETREAT WITH THE HONORS OF WAR. 237 


“ It is Monsieur Masson -Spierley.” 

“The poor dear seems to be laboring under the 
delusion that he is attractive,” continued Mrs. 
Prentiss, sotto voce. 

“ Don’t you find him so?” answered Belle, laugh- 

ingty- 

Monsieur Masson-Spierley constituted himself 
Mrs. Prentiss’ shadow until she entered her car- 
riage to return home, much to that lady’s amuse- 
ment. On reaching the house, Mrs. Prentiss 
begged permission to order her carriage, resisting 
the Baroness’ urgent invitation to remain and dine 
with them, on the plea that she was a little tired 
by her hurried journey from Blankenburg. Belle 
left the room to prepare for leaving with her friends. 

“ We shall see Mees Adams again, I trust,” said 
the Baroness. 

“ Certainty, Madame,” answered Mrs. Prentiss; 
“ Belle would not think of leaving Rochefort with- 
out bidding all those who have been so kind to her 
good-bye. I must thank you, Madame and Mon- 
sieur de Heuze, as well as your amiable niece and 
her husband, for your kindness to my little com- 
patriot. I thank you in her aunt’s name as well 
as in my own.” 

“ I trust Madame will permit me to add my 
grateful acknowledgments,” said Mr. Prentiss. 
Monsieur Masson-Spierley approached the Baroness, 


238 


BELGIAN DAYS. 


tli rust an envelope into lier hand, saying in a low 
voice, “ Here are the thousand francs I still owe 
Mees; please give them to her, Pauline; ask her if 
it is all right, and get a receipt.” The Baroness 
left the room, and returned in a few moments with 
the receipt. 

“ Is not the Baroness lovely?” asked Belle, as 
they were driving back to Rochefort. 

“Almost too much on her guard,” answered 
Mrs. Prentiss. 

“ She was never on her guard, as you call it, with 
me,” said Belle. 

“ I suppose she saw no occasion to be,” observed 
Mrs. Prentiss dryly. 

“You like her very much, don’t you, Henry?” 
resumed Belle. 

“Yery much indeed,” answered Winthrop 
warmly. 

“ I like Oda Spierley better,” said Frances 
Prentiss; “ she is more spontaneous. I find we 
know some of the same people in Brussels; an old 
friend of mine, the Countess d’Oudenarde, is an in- 
timate friend of her mother’s. I think I shall try 
and get Oda to spend a few days at Blankenburg 
with us. It will be a nice way of relaying some 
of their civility to you, Belle.” 

Belle had a long confidential chat with her 
friend that night, and acquainted her with the 


A RETREAT WITH THE HONORS OF WAR. 239 


whole story of her difficulties with Madame Mas- 
son-Spierle}'. 

U I am glad I did not know all this before,” said 
Mrs. Prentiss. 

During the following winter Madame de Henze 
received Mr. and Mrs. Henry Winthrop’s wedding- 
cards. She showed them to Madame Masson- 
Spierley, whose only comment was, 

“ I said from the first that Mees Adams was too 
distinguee to be a governess.” 

















































































































A Sunny Picture of the Land of Music and Musicians, 


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TALES FROM FOREIGN TONGUES, 

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MEMOBXES; A story of german love. 

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We catch the very breezes of the Steppes, i nd me. t, lace to face, the liigh- 
soulcd, simple minded Russian.” 

Of “ Madeleine” the New York Evening Te'egram says: "More than 
thirty years ago it received the honor of a prize from the French 
Academy and has since almost become a French classic. It abounds 
both in pathos and wit. Above all. it is a pure story, dealing with love 
of the must exalted kind, it is, indeed, a wonder that a tale so fresh, so 
sweet, so pure as this has not sooner been introduced to the English- 
speaking public.” 


Sold by booksellers, or mailed, postpaid, on receipt of price, by 

JANSEN, McCLURG & CO., Publishers, Chicago, 111. 





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